The Land Eastward, Book 5 of the Inheritance Cycle
by Larry Stokes
Summary: After finishing book four, years ago, I couldn't help but to wonder what happened next. Do Eragon and Arya ever get together? Do Murtagh and Nasuada? Do the Dwarves ever forgive Murtagh for killing their king? And what of the land eastward? What adventures lie out there? Does Nasuada ever figure out how to control her magicians without infringing on free will?


The Land Eastward Book 5 of the Inheritance Cycle

The Inheritance Cycle is a series was written by Christopher Paolini, composing four books. This work is a proposed fifth book and was written by Larry Stokes, January 2018 as fan fiction.

Rated M which means: Not suitable for children below the age 16 non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language. Can contain adult language, themes and suggestions.

Introduction

First of all, you must read the first four books before reading this one - but only if you want to understand what is going on. You can read this work as a standalone if you wish. The author, Christopher Paolini, had a great deal of fun writing these four books, that is obvious. Writing is always fun. The thrill of leading the story along only to find your way blocked. Then, as if someone else is suddenly writing the book for you, the words come pouring out of you fingers into the computer, taking complete control of the story and getting you out of the bind that you managed to blunder into.

And so it is with this book. I had no idea what I was going to write, except that I was dissatisfied with the way Christopher had ended the fourth book. This work is my attempt to create an alternate ending to this _Inheritance Cycle_. I am pleased with what I have written. It took me less than a week to write, which is also pleasing, and contains nearly 50,000 words. I delve into philosophy in places. I am a mystic. The mystic's path inevitably crops up into my writings. I am a seeker for world peace. This too, often, gets included in my writings.

By the end of chapter four, Eragon is traveling east, Murtagh has made amends with the dwarlves and settled in Ilirea, Arya has been released from her duties as Queen of the elves and has joined Eargon in the eastlands. Things are shaping up. Though this story ended extremely unresolved at the end of book four, we can now see a glimmer of hope for reconciliation with joy.

Stories are a healing modality, like music. They take us into the chaos then return us to the arms of peace, the good ending. Without the good ending, the healing isn't complete. The chaos brings up unbalanced emotions and the good ending releases those emotions into the void - like a little death. Each story we read is a little death, one more step towards emotional freedom.

You will see a marked lack of war from the fifth chapter on. No need. A higher power is emerging, that of love. In this world of Eragon's, those in possession of the ultimate power to act, are good at heart. They do not desire conflict or dominion, and will not tolerate this in others. Thus, none have the power to unbalance the world except those who desire balance.

I will name another story where this is the case: the Pern series where the Dragon Riders are good, mostly, and that is because the dragon riders are chosen by the dragons. The dragons of Pern are good at heart; they lack the ability to cause war.

It has been said that the rule of a righteous king is the best form of government. The problem being that a nation cannot guarantee the next king to be righteous. Though this is only a story, we as a nation and a world are facing the same questions. Will we be able to direct the chaos of today's economic and political climate into lasting peace, abundance and freedom? Time will tell.

Mating is, by far, one of the greatest joys in this world - the greatest adventure in human emotions. It was no different in this make-believe world of Eragon's.

Consider the intimate relationship between the many couples depicted here as an undercurrent feeding everything else that happens. In the first four books, Eragon's yearning and Arya's rejection was the only real story being told. Now, in this fifth book, their mutual love is the only story - the untold story. It started as a dream of a beautiful girl in distress and grew into a love affair destined to survive across the expanse of eternity.

Mating was the drive behind the Varden's search for the captured dragon eggs, the emotions driving Murtagh to protect Nasuada. I could go on and on. Mating crowns all other causes in this world, in the universe. It is the First Cause. The ultimate mating experience is found within, the merging of self with Self. It is a path, the mystic's path. At each turn of the road, you find a pair of opposites blocking your way. How to move on? Light up the two opposites, become aware of them, intimately, then watch as they merge - like a mad chemist or a wizard.

There is nothing to do - just observe. Nature takes care of the rest. No plan, as Eragon said. Sex just happens. You become aware that you desire to mate and nature takes over. Eragon and Arya had a long road to follow, but not too long. Eternity is longer. What then? The child is born. Opposites merge to form a new energy, which will in turn reveal another two opposites needing to merge. This is the process of creation.

There is something very mystical about waking a dragon up inside of you. What could that signify? The kundalini or Yellow Stream? Perhaps. Is the Eldunari that you merge with your Higher Self? Another guess, just a guess. This all smells of something much simpler: waking a dragon up inside of you represents the power to create change – in yourself and in the world around you. All it takes is a little nudge to make your heart vibration move up a notch. A little bit of love will make a world of difference.

Sexual arousal is such a wonderfully powerful sensation. Love is just as potent, but not the same thing. One will motivate a person to climb the tallest mountain to be with their beloved. The other moves the mountain. To feel this power, simply focus your attention on the center of your chest. Your emotions instantly soften, and the vibrational rate of this center increases. People around you will notice a difference, perhaps a light, but I think not. We give way too much credit to light in our culture. Love is something that you find filling in the cracks between light and darkness. It's the way-shower - the level beneath all of creation, where true magic exists.

In this book I have proposed a plan, an ideal, that has the potential of bringing about world peace. It is to ask this world to flip its laws into a reverse order so that power, wealth and influence only gravitate to those who love. That alone would make this world a paradise. It is our decision. What kind of a future will we create for our children's children?

The land's vibration has already been raised. There is no turning back. The transition can be a violent one, or a graceful one. Which will it be? As for me and my house, I choose love.

Section 1 Dragon Riders Prologue

Have you ever lay on your back on the grass on a clear night and looked up into the sky?What do you recall seeing? Stars? Perhaps the moon? There are other things you might have seen if you knew how to look. Consider for a moment what you'd see if you were out there among the stars and looking back at earth. Our sun would look like any other star among the millions that shine there. Millions! Can you conceive such a thing? There are millions of suns just like ours. Some of them must have orbiting planets, some of those must be bursting with life, just as we are. That is my guess.

One night, not too long ago, I was laying on the grass just as we're talking about here. Looking up at the heavenly jewels that were swirling around and around in space. One big galaxy in the heavens, many parts. That's who we are. As I looked up in awe, I heard laughter. Floating down from the stars onto the grass where I lay. I wondered about this. The sound was merry. No lizard's voice, but the sound such as you or I might make when among friends.

Sound and light aren't so much different from each other. They both travel to us from their source, they fill us, but aren't us. It's as if the source of light or sound is purposely bridging a gap between us, wanting desperately to share it's world with those around it. Thus we see and hear. Sharing is part of the experience in this world.

A parent sleeps at night. Soundly and in peace. Then they hear the voice of their child, crying out. He is in pain and confused, not knowing where to turn for help. The parent sits up and pays attention to the voice, his plea. Then picks up the phone and dials a number. It's their son's number. A son who lives in another town halfway across the country. The son answers the phone. He has been crying, they can tell. They talk about it and both are glad that they just happen to call … at 2:00 in the morning.

The opposite is also true. The parent may hear the laughter of their daughter and call just to check. "Our child was just born!" declares the son-in-law. "No, you can't talk to her. She's exhausted and sleeping. The baby's name is Patty. How did you ever know to contact us? I was just about to call."

I heard laughter. I looked up and knew just which star it came from. It had a certain twinkle to it that looked just like the laughter sounded. But, back to the parent. How did he or she hear their child from such a distance? Sound has a way of jumping from one place to another, not always, but when the need is great. Then it can jump. Light has this same talent – to jump. Science tells us that light bends. There are also rumors moving through the scientific circles suggesting that light can also jump to another place without leaving any sight of it trailing along between. As if it stops existing and reappears instantly somewhere else, even across the expanse of space where these glorious stars are floating. Sound does the same thing.

I will tell you what I saw and heard as I looked up into the heavens that night. I saw a sun, a life-giving orb of exploding gases, with a number of planets orbiting around it. One planet caught my eye for it looked a lot like our own earth, except maybe a little smaller. There were blue oceans and land masses covered with plant life. Islands, great continents, sea creatures of every kind. The land was more interesting. I focused on a particular shore, a western shore, because this is where I heard the laughter.

The land sloped upward into the foothills of a coastal range, and was covered with a lush rain forest. Moist and the perfect place for abundant life to flourish. Animals of every variety were abundant. Let's travel together south down this coast, down through my memories of this place.. I came to a sheltered bay, and a place where the land between ocean and mountains widened considerably. There was a river flowing through this region and into the bay, on its far southern border. A rather large town was sitting there, walls of stone to keep out undesirables, and a harbor filled with ships and boats. Like a nest of ants, this town was bustling with life.

Further south along this coast I traveled, as if I was flying high above the land like a bird. The mountains ended and gave way to a wide valley, so wide that I could not see from one side to the other. Farms covered the land. Towns and an occasional castle made of stone and surrounded by the same. This valley had its beginnings far inland, finding its way eastward as it wrapped around the east side of the coastal range and then northward until it met the old ones. A forest of great antiquity. Some say these monarchs of the forest were the first living things who came to occupy this land. Now elves lived there. Tall and graceful elves. Full of magic, for they are the ones who started it all. First talking to the trees, then bonding with the dragons.

Farther north, past the forest, I found a cold and barren wasteland, and beyond that, ice, eternal ice. You are beginning to get a feel for the lay of this place. But we have not yet found the laughter.

An arid and sandy land with naught but thorny brush, snakes and scorpions lay east of the coastal range, past the valley. To the south of that, mountains rose up into the sky. Some say beyond the sky.

This is where we find the laughter. It came from a child who was delighted to be pulling the beard of their nanny goat. The goat backed up and voiced its complaint, then looked over at the child's parent for help. The child was swooped up into loving arms and carried inside the cottage for a bite to eat. This was a dwarvish family. The dwarves proudly claim the place of honor as the first people to occupy this land. And the first species with a higher intelligence, unless you count the dragons, and they never did like to count the dragons. Humans lived in the valley and on the coast, dwarves in the tall southern mountains, elves in the northern forest. And lastly, giants concealed themselves in the coastal range.

Chapter 1

In the elvish city of Ellesméra far to the north, Arya sat in the dark of her room. It was late. The words of Eragon's poem came floating into her mind uncalled for. The poem was a gift to her at their parting.

A young lad, he met a girl that set his heart afire  
Who was everything he could desire.  
A light engulfed her body like a wreath,  
Her inner power, a sword unsheathed. Her eyes, like pools of water of the deepest hue,  
Revealing all that is good and true.  
And a hidden laughter lurking there,  
Free and wild, without a care. Being of the Elder race, what could she bring a lad so young?  
A lover's song yet unsung  
To bridge the gap between whole and broken,  
The language of the heart yet unspoken. The question remains unanswered and yet  
the question stands: will she wish they had never met?  
Or step up and take his hand,  
Leading him to the promised land.

"I am that maiden," said Arya out-loud to the room at large. "It wasn't Eragon's dedication that was in question, it was mine. I doubted." She sat in stillness wondering what that could mean. Still in doubt, though her heart was telling her that she sorely missed Eragon.

Fírnen, the Dragon she was bonded to, lay somewhere in Ellesméra, but connected, as always, to Arya's thoughts and emotions. _I miss Saphira,_ he said, speaking from his mind to hers, as was their custom.

Arya gave a long sigh and responded, _I know you do. In this we are alike._

The stars were out in all their glory, partially bocked by the silhouette of the majestic pine trees. This was Ellesméra, the capitol city of the elves. Their dwelling places were sung out of the trees, leaving the forest undisturbed, for the most part. You could barely tell which were trees and which were homes.

Who was Arya? The queen of the elven people. Her mother, Islanzadí, was killed just months before in an epoch battle against the mad king, Galbatorix. Now Arya was queen, the servant of all her kind. She argued in favor of choosing another, but the elven council prevailed. Arya was also a Dragon Rider, and this is what caused the conflict. By all rights, she and Fírnen should have left with Eragon and the others to give guidance to the new generation of dragons, especially Fírnen, for he was a dragon and these were his kin who strove for reemergence in this land.

But the greater conflict lay within her heart.

Silence prevailed. Arya was recalling some of the more intimate times Eragon and she had enjoyed together before he left. She smiled.

She breathed in deeply of the air of her chambers. It was rich with life – the vine-covered walls, the three small glyph trees of peace, strength, and wisdom, and the myriad flowers growing in the forest nearby – which scented the air. A restorative. A balm of peace. _Then how comes trouble into our minds amid such medicine?_ Arya asked. _We allow it in, invite it, even seek it,_ she concluded. Through the open door into her bedroom, she saw a glass sphere with a preserved blossom of a black morning glory embedded within it - her symbol of hope for a better future. But the future never came. Fäolin was killed and so was a part of herself. _Can I allow Eragon to rekindle that part of me that is lost? Can I let go of my sadness?_ Arya asked.

For once she wished that life didn't end with death, entering the void, because she had need for a mother more than ever before. _What did Eragon tell me? That he had seen the Dwarfish god appear and place the crown on Orik's head. Utter nonsense. The void is real. The gods are not._

Then a simply astounding thing happened: she doubted her own cultural teachings.

 _Eragon wouldn't have made that up_ , she pondered. _But of course, he was disillusioned, nothing more._ Arya worried over that conclusion. He was not the type to imagine things. That's why he was so abdominally slow at guessing riddles.

Something like a light settled over the room. Not a light, not even warmth, but it filled the room with a presence, nonetheless. In alarm, she stood up, fearing that some evil was lurking nearby. She cast her awareness outward in all directs in search of the source of this feeling. Nothing. The area held nothing more than elven minds, everything was as it should be.

The presence intensified. A personality presented itself. A familiar energy. "Islanzadí?" Arya said to the empty room. "Mother?" The room remained silent but the presence grew. She finally fell asleep in a chair, bathed with this feeling.

In the morning, with the sun rising and shining through the trees, creating small patches of light on the forest floor, Arya awoke. She reached out with her mind. _Fírnen? I am awake. Did you feel what I_ _felt last night?_

 _Yes. I don't understand what I felt. This light was so strong within you._

 _No, it filled the room._

 _Not the room. You were the source of light._

A Dwarfish riddle came to Arya's mind:

There is a room full of dwarves with a single candle sitting on a table, giving light to all. Everyone knows what the dwarves feel like, but what does the candle feel? Does it even see the light?

 _Can someone feel a presence from within? Even if it feels as if_ _it's without?_ pondered Arya.

That night found Arya in her room. Excitement mounted. She uttered a single word, _Mother?_ The presence filled the room as before. Instead of looking outward, Arya went into herself, deeper than she had ever gone before. Into rooms kept locked since before her birth. She found herself in a world of Light. There stood Islanzadí, as regal as ever before.

 _Daughter, I have come. What do you want?_

 _Want? I want to know why you aren't dead! I saw you cut down by that black demon. How can you be here?_

 _I will always be here for you within your heart. The elves have forgotten how to use their hearts._

 _Then death is not the end._ Arya sat in silence for a long moment contemplating this revelation. _We have errored, then._

 _Yes. We are eternal, being an elf has nothing to do with it. All living things are eternal. Now for your real question. How much do you love Eragon?_

 _More than I realized._

 _Well said. You will find out soon enough, but the answer to your dilemma is resting in your belly._

 _What do you mean?_

 _You have become lax. Look within for life. What do you see?_

 _My energy of course. What else would I see? … Oh! There is something more! A child! Eragon's child! This is very pragmatic._

 _Not at all. It is your solution. What is the highest honor and duty in our culture?_

 _Being a parent._

 _And this takes president over your calling as Queen, does it not? They will release you. It was an ill-formed plan from the start but I could only stand by and watch with growing concern. You were never meant to be Queen. You are a Rider. And now a parent. Go and find Däthedr. Good-bye, my daughter._

The presence receded till there was only a room and a very confused girl sitting there deep in meditation.

The words of Eragon came to her. _How can you be a Rider as well as a queen? The Riders aren't supposed to support any one race above the others. It would be impossible for the other peoples of Alagaësia to trust us if we did. And how can you help rebuild our order and raise the next generation of dragons if you're busy with your responsibilities in Ellesméra?_

 _Eragon was right._ She stood and strode from her room in search of Däthedr. He was in Tialdarí Hall.

"Däthedr, step into the starlight with me a moment so we can talk unobserved."

He rose and followed her. A puzzled look nearly concealed behind his mental barriers. "Yes, Queen Arya?" he said at last.

Arya leaned against a tree to give her strength. "I am pregnant," she said simply.

"That is news overflowing with joy! But why tell me in private? Why not announce this to all?"

Without answering his question she posed her own. "What is the greatest honor and duty in our culture?"

"Parenthood. I see a glimmer of reasoning emerging out of your question. You mean to back out of being our Queen. Let me remind you that, though both parents need to be present if possible, this in no way keeps you from being queen - your own mother being an example."

"Eragon is the other parent."

"What? He isn't even an elf. What were you thinking? Besides, we don't even know where he is."

"I'm sorry, though I wish with my all to fulfill the duties you have placed upon me, I see I have been blind to the greater calling, that of being a Dragon Rider. And now a parent. And … the calling of my heart. Will you release me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"None."

"Then I release you. Now let us return to the others and discuss this in council." He held out his hand to lead her back into the light.

The decision to appoint Däthedr King came quickly amid the rejoicing that a child was soon to enter the world. Arya found herself with time on her hands, riding Fírnen deep within the woods or to lonely peeks to give her the solitude she needed. _How do I move forward from here?_ she pondered. The way was not clear in her mind. Especially, how she was to approach Eragon.

 _Just tell him_ , said Fírnen.

She was in no doubt that Eragon would be ecstatic. Yet she found it hard to just blurt out the news to him. After all the trouble she gave him, now she was the one who was asking. Gladly too. She was truly in love - in the way of the elves.

She decided to write a letter and send it by magic, a magic that allowed an object to slip from one place to another without traveling the distance between. She had used this spell to send Saphira's egg out of Durza's grasp, so long ago, it seemed now.

She pulled paper, quill and ink out of a drawer and began to think, quill resting on her lips.

"Eragon, I have some news for you, good news. But first I want to set the record straight. I love you - more than any maiden has ever loved a man before. Yes, I name you man, not a boy. You have proved yourself in so many ways. Will you be my man? That is the first question. I would like an answer before I continue. Arya"

Arya got out a bowl, filled it with water and looked deeply into its surface. She spoke a few words in elvish and the water darkened then showed an image of a young man sitting at a table in silence. Arya took a deep breath, then spoke another word. The location of the young man came into her mind and she knew where she was to send the letter. _So far away,_ she said to herself. Arya took her letter and deftly folded it into a boat, cast a spell of finding over it and stepped onto her balcony. Holding the letter up high in the air, using both hands, she spoke some words of power. There was a flash of light and the paper boat disappeared.

In a lonely stretch of river, far away to the east, a boat of elven make moved with the current, at it's own pace - not too fast, not too slow. Eragon sat in the cabin, deep in contemplation. Suddenly, there was a flash of light out over the river, then darkness. Everyone on board became alert, tense as a bowstring. Eragon ran onto the deck. Out of the night sailed a small paper boat, on the eddies of the air, and landed in Eragon's outstretched hands. They were trembling as he unfolded the letter.

"It's from Arya," he announced and everyone relaxed, yet waiting for him to read it. "The letter appears to be private. Sorry. I can't read it."

"But of course, Argetlam," replied Blödhgarm. He returned to his lonely vigil sitting on the railing of the boat staring out into the night.

Sitting in the cabin, Eragon reread the letter and took out paper, quill and ink of his own.

"My dear Arya, I can't imagine what changes have come your way since last spring when we parted. But, I assure you that my love for you is unbroken - unwavering. This is the strongest part of my True Name, as you well know. Has your True Name altered or bloomed? This is my answer. I hope it is the right one. Eragon"

He looked at Arya's folded paper boat and saw how it was constructed, something that had escaped him before. He quickly folded his letter into a similar boat and spoke a phrase in the ancient language to guide it towards Arya once it had arrived in Ellesméra. Stepping onto the deck of the boat, he held his paper boat high in the air and evoked the magic that would transport it instantly across the far reaches of the east and appear in the air high above Ellesméra. The boat disappeared with a flash of light.

Arya was waiting, hoping that Eragon would not have to think too hard to write an answer. A light appeared in the air, and she sensed a paper boat finding its way to her room. Impatience was not one of her usual characteristics, but today she couldn't help herself. She caught the boat and had it unfolded before she reached her chair. It was the right answer. Arya took another paper and wrote her happy reply.

"Eragon, I am pregnant and you are the father, as you well know. I have been released from being queen, on account that parenthood, in my culture, takes precedence over all else. More than that. I should have followed my heart. The heart is so much more reliable than the logic of the mind. A lesson that we elves must someday learn. I have so much to tell you. I do not know how Fírnen and I are ever to catch up with you. I do not expect you to wait for us. We will find a way, Fírnen and I. Now I must go and talk with my dragon. He is overjoyed. Arya"

Eragon read the letter when it arrived. Then he shared this letter with the elves and the Eldunarí. They, of course, were glad beyond words, for a child to be born to an elf meant a continuing of their race - and a blessing to the world.

Who are the Eldunarí? A Dragon's Heart Star encapsulated in crystal.

Every person is a star. What does that statement mean to you? I will tell you what it means to me. Every person shines. From head to toe. From finger tip to finger tip. You shine. Starting from a special place deep within your chest, you shine with the brilliance of a star. You can close your eyes and still see it. Place your hand on your chest or the chest of another and pay attention. A vibration is there, deep within, radiating outward. It is your star. Your Heart Star.

In this world, all dragons have, within their chest, a crystal shaped like an egg. It is their Heart Star made physical. The elven word for this crystal is Eldunarí. It is the source of their magic. It is also a repository for consciousness upon pending death,but only if they will it so. Otherwise death is just death and the light of their Heart Star flitters away into other worlds when the body is no more. The elves taught the dragons who bonded with them to fear death and so they chose to remain in their Heart Star rather than face the void and nonexistence.

This is who Eragon was talking to: the Eldunarí of dragons who have died but have chosen to remain here in the physical world as a crystal. A crystal with a consciousness, one with all the mental and emotional capacity that a live dragon possesses.

As the great war came to a close, many of these Eldunarí s were found. A number of dragon eggs were also discovered and it was these which caused the necessity of making this voyage into the east – to provide a haven for the Eldunarí and absolute safety for the eggs as they hatched. For the race of dragons was on the edge of extinction at this time. Above all else, the elves wished to ensure the rebirth of the dragon race. Some of these eggs had been magically marked with a spell which would cause the baby dragon to bond with the first person to touch it. This bond is two way: The dragon gained the ability to use words, and the person gained long life and greater magical powers. The dragon could speak, yes, but only from one mind to another, not with the vocal cords.

There is more to this magic. Not only are the two who are bonded benefit from these gifts, but the whole race of each being involved. All the dragons became less ferocious and began using language to think with, and the whole elven race became more magical and enjoyed long life. The Humans joined in this magic much later and so had not, as yet, gained these gifts as a whole race. At the end of the war, the opportunity to bond with dragons was offered to the dwarvish race and the giants, the Urgals, as they are called in the common tongue. This was done in an attempt to bring a lasting peace to the land.

In the days before the great war, in the beginning, those bonded with dragons joined together. They called themselves Dragon Riders. Their purpose was to keep the peace. Because of their superior fighting skills and greater magical powers, they could easily subdue any uprising designed to destroy the peace that, at that time in Alagaësian history, prevailed. About a 100 years before the great war, the order fell into darkness and so destroyed themselves from the inside. Now the Order of Dragon Riders was reforming. The goal was the same - universal peace.

And so we see that a small boat of elven make is floating down a river heading due east. It's precious cargo consists of unhatched dragon eggs, the Eldunarí of dragons long dead in the body but who's minds were still vital and active, Eragon who was human and bonded to a dragon, a number of selected elves who wished to assist in this project, and a dragon, Saphira, who was Eragon's companion, and bond-mate.

Chapter 2

Murtagh sat, squatting in the frozen mud surveying the land. Shivering and tired beyond endurance, he felt all his strength had been zapped from his limbs. This scared him. _How am I to survive the winter in this frozen wasteland?_ Thorn, a dragon who was bonded to Murtagh, whimpered. Murtagh cast a spell which would reveal any warmth in the immediate area. To his surprise, there was a warm spot indicated not too far away. This looked promising. He climbed upon Thorn's back and together they glided down the slope of shale dotted with desert brush to a ravine all but hidden from view. You would have to actually fly right over it to notice. It didn't look inviting. But, his spell had indicated warmth somewhere down in this direction.

They landed, and Murtagh cast the spell again. Spinning around to face the opposite direction, he saw what he was looking for - the small opening of a cave. It was high enough on the ravine wall to avoid flooding – if it ever rained in this forsaken place, which he doubted. Murtagh climbed up to the cave opening. The opening was bigger than it looked from the ravine floor, big enough for Thorn to squeeze through. _What's inside? That's the question,_ mused Murtagh. He stepped in, followed by Thorn, then immediately turned left and right again. The ceiling rose to forty feet. The floor was irregular and rough, yet reasonably level. And it was warm - warmer than a cave should be. Looking around, and feeling the walls with his hands, he felt warmth.

Thorn entered. _Nice cave_ , is all he said. Then hunkered down in a corner with his back against one of the warm walls.

Murtagh cast his spell again which revealed heat. It directed him to a vent in the wall, leading further in. "Thermal heat," he said out loud. "We're in luck."

He surveyed his surroundings, more critically this time. This cave had the makings of a descent retreat from the cold, even a promise of comfort. Murtagh decided to start with the floor.

 _Thorn, my best of friends, could I ask you to go outside just for a moment? I want to level the floor._

Thorn made a rasping sound deep in his throat. But he got up and left the cave, his tail twitching in irritation all the way. Murtagh cast a spell that would level the floor, a little at a time so he wouldn't over-extend himself. The floor suddenly began smoothing out. He became tired and ended the spell. _That will have to do for now_. Thorn returned and resumed his pastime of leaning against the wall and snoozing. It had been a long flight from Urû'baen to the far reaches of the north. Murtagh took the saddle off Thorn. The dragon didn't want to stand to allow that, he was so tired.

Murtagth reached into a pouch for rations and, squatting near Thorn, he ate. It was not satisfying. After a few minutes of sitting thus, he began to wonder if there were any wildlife outside. He got up and left the cave. Standing at its mouth, he felt around with his mind for any life. _Some life, yes,_ he thought.

He killed a couple of rabbits with one of the spells that caused death, and brought them back to the cave entrance. Then he set about gathering dried branches, and started a fire. While the wood was burning into a nice bed of coals, he skinned the rabbits. Once the rabbits were sizzling away, he returned to the cave. The warmth was a relief. He looked at the ceiling critically, looking for any beginnings of a chimney, so he could cook indoors. He found one, then cast a spell to deepen it until, at last, he reached daylight. Murtagh turned the rabbits and stood there outside the cave looking about.

 _This will do. No one will think to look here. We have become hermits, Thorn and I. Now I can think._ That is what he did for many weeks. Life was simple. His thoughts were simple. His anger was over the top - and completely unsatisfying. The object of his anger was dead. The mad king was dead. He, Murtagh, had taken his part in that drama. He smiled. It was a bitter smile. _I did the best that I could. Eragon_ _wouldn't have faired so well – if we had switched places, my brother and I. It had been only a fluke that he was hidden in that far off corner of Alagaësia,_ _while I stayed a captive in the king's court._ He had heard himself say that before, many times. It was like a ritual for him, to blame his life circumstances for the pain he felt.

His father was dead, the man who had killed him was dead, then there was that event where he had killed Hrothgar, the dwarvish king. That was unfortunate. He had few friends as it was without alienating a whole race. _I was caught up in the fever of the battle_ , he tried to tell himself. He knew that wasn't true. He had enjoyed reaching out to a world that had never been kind to him with violence. _What is done is done._ He sighed. Then there was Nasuada - his one weakness, his one ticket to a brighter land. Galbatorix had fixed that. _She could never love me after what the mad king had forced me to do to her._ The red-hot pokers he had been forces to brand Nasuada with burnt an image of rage and pain onto the stage of his mind. He shut the curtain, he could not look.

His thoughts were traveling down and down into a rabbit hole of despair. He shook himself. _At least I am warm and well feed._ He poured some water into a depression in the floor and scried Nasuada. She sat in her courtroom, talking to invisible guests. She looked tired. He wished he could help her, be by her side.

 _What was it about brooding here in this cave that I_ _want to accomplish?_ he asked.

 _Peace_ , came the unbidden answer.

 _Then I'm headed in the wrong direction. Peace is over there, not here in this endless entanglement of sour thoughts._ Eragon had once advised Murtagh to let go of his anger. His tart reply was that anger was what defined him. _Perhaps it was time to let go of this old friend, anger. Perhaps. But how?_ First of all you have to want a thing, want it badly.

 _Thorn?_ He opened one eye and looked in Murtagh's direction. _Are you angry?_

 _No. The rage of battle takes it out of us. Dragons are made differently than humans or any other creature. I understand your need. But it is not my need. Galbatorix's deeds still sadden me but I am no longer angry. He was a mighty hunter._

 _I wish I could let go of anger that easily._

Two months had passed. Murtagh and Thorn began to travel further and further from their cave. There was a camp of Urgals many miles to the east and slightly north. They stayed clear of them. Glaedr, one of the Eldunari, had advised Murtagh to stay away from the Urgal king up north. He once spied the king from high above the village. The king was a shade. An Urgal shade was an evil he wished to avoid at all costs. There were other villages. They all answered to him or he challenged them until they did. The king was a bloody demon. He made Murtagh's skin crawl.

Murtagh began to feel restless. _Perhaps it is time to move on,_ Murtagh said to Thorn one evening. Thorn remained silent. He opened one eye and looked in Murtagh's direction. _Not yet,_ continued Murtagh. _I am waiting for a sign._

Eragon's boat slipped around a bend in the river and glided into a lake of enormous size - so large that the other side of it was only a smudge on the horizon. To the north could be seen foothills leading into higher mountains - to the south, a vast plain, not desert, but a grassland. For weeks they had been laboriously sailing through a narrow and hazardous channel with high cliffs on either side of it. Saphira would sometimes scout out the terrain, but her report was always the same: more rocky low-lying hills devoid of all but the most meager vegetation.

Saphira had spent the past several days flying just ahead of the boat, locating and reporting the location of the many submerged rocks, any one of which could destroy their boat. The water was turbulent and unruly, pushing the boat in unexpected ways, often requiring some magic to keep the boat from harm.

Then everything opened up. The lake appeared. It was such a relief, they all felt like celebrating. They guided the boat along the northern shore and looked for a place to camp. A small but deep tributary presented itself by that afternoon. Camp was set up, a fire lit. Eragon dubbed the lake Lake Oromis, in honor of the fallen hero. All agreed it was a proper name. And thus they had named their first place since leaving Alagaësia.

The next day, exploration groups set out to see if this was to be their destination. "Do not worry about Saphira and me," said Eragon. "We may not return until tomorrow." Some of the elves walked north through the forest, Saphira and Eragon flew north and further east. Their excitement was very high - the thrill of adventure leading the way into this new land. What would they find? Who would they find?

At the day's end, Saphira landed in a meadow. Eragon gathered wood and lit a fire while Saphira rested from her long hours of flight. The stars began to appear in the heavens, illuminating the meadow, surrounded by the silhouette of the pine trees at its border. The scurryings of the small animals that inhabited the meadow could be heard as they ventured from their dens.

A sigh of relief escaped Eragon's lips. A release of all the pent-up tension of the past many days and weeks, actually. They had been traveling for two months since leaving Alagaësia. This was the first time he felt like he could settle down and get to work building the new village and training grounds for the Dragon Riders.

 _How are you feeling, Saphira?_ asked Eragon.

 _Tired,_ she replied. _Other than that … hummm. This place makes me feel alive, like coming home after a long journey. I could stay here. The hunting is good._

 _I feel the same_ , added Eragon. _I think we might have found the place for our settlement._

Saphira nodded in agreement. _It was a long journey. Our little boat was so slow I often felt like screaming in frustration at the rate we were advancing. Slow. But the cargo we carry was worth the trouble, even that last part with the narrow, winding, treacherous water way - death staring us in the face every turn of the river, like a rope filled with burs, or a snake with poisonous scales._

Eragon chuckled at her description of the journey. It was no picnic. He wanted it that way, to discourage any to travel here. The fire was settling into a comfortable bed of coals, the night sky was bright. He was the leader of a new age of Dragon Riders. The world shone around him. And he was very pleased - especially with Arya's announcement.

 _What do you think about Arya coming here?_

 _I miss Firnen._

 _Should I scry her?_

 _Yes._

Eragon took a bowl out of his pack and filled it partially with water. Casting the spell, he stared intently into the depths of the water and waited. At last, he saw Firnen with Arya on his back. They were flying above Ellesméra. She was holding a paper boat up in the air as if she was about to launch a great ship on its maiden voyage. Then she spoke some words which Eragon did not hear and, with a flash of blinding light, they both disappeared. The paper boat, and also Arya and Firnen. In a flash of light.

"Something has happened!" shouted Eragon. "I just witnessed a kind of magic that I've never seen before!"

Chapter 3

It was afternoon deep in the city of Ellesméra. Arya had just composed a letter to send to Eragon. The humans would have called it a love letter. The elves would have thought it too open, revealing, something that their culture opposed.

 _Firnen, will you fly with me? I want to cast this boat off in a grand way. It is a letter to Eragon._

 _I wish_ I _could write to Saphira,_ mused Firnen.

Arya strapped Firnen's saddle in place. He lowered his foreleg so she could more easily climb into the saddle. Once Arya was ready they took off, flying high above the pinewood city of the elves. Looking down, they could see only trees, with no evidence that an advanced civilization resided there. The elvish culture was kind to the land they inhabited. The magic had made them gentle.

Arya and Firnen floated there high above the forest floor, enjoying the feeling of being suspended between these two worlds. Then they both looked east - toward the land of their desire, towards their longing to be reunited with loved ones. It was a bitter-sweet feeling. On one hand it bespoke of hope for a better world, on the other, they saw no way to get there. The frustration was keen enough to cause Firnen to bellow his worst war cry and bath the sky with a torrent of fire. Dragon magic was in the air - unbidden, uncreated, just there, hovering in the air with them.

Arya took the paper boat from her pocket and, after straightening it out a bit, held it aloft. She pronounced the spell as usual, but something was different - like a storm gathering behind her words. Arya could feel Firnen's desire strongly, a wanting to be with Saphira - not just with her but on her, attacking, bitting, mastering her body as his own. The spell ended, a light gathered around the boat, then around Arya and Firnen as well, and then an explosion of sering heat and light. Some in the city below had seen it, they reported later.

In the place where Arya and Firnen had been there was an empty space. They were gone. Vanished. But to where? Or did they pass into the void, as the elves mistakenly called death?

Above the meadow, where Eragon was scrying Arya, there appeared a brilliant flash of light. Eragon looked up, expecting to see a paper boat, but instead he saw a dragon. The dragon was breathing fire. He landed with a thud and demanded that the saddle be removed. _I will not need that for a while._

Arya jumped down, alarmed by her dragon's mood. She cast a spell to remove the saddle and stood out of the way. Firnen leaped toward Saphira and tore into her tail. The pain was great enough that it evoked rage from Saphira and she jumped to her feet, facing her opponent with trepidation. Firnen snarled. Something in his eyes made her back up just a little. That is what Firnen was waiting for. He pounced and pinned Saphira down by the neck, shaking her violently from side to side. Saphira rolled over, broke his hold and jumped into the air, taking flight across the meadow. Firnen was in the air right after her. Saphira swiped at him with her tail and he rolled in the air to avoid a blow. Soon they were out of sight. Arya and Eragon stood there in awe.

"What the ..." said Eragon.

"Did you not read about the mating flights of dragons, Eragon?"

"Yes, but so violent? This is more like a battle."

"A battle, yes." She had stepped to his side and taken Eragon's hand.

"Is it true, then?" he asked, looking down at her belly.

"True as can be. There is someone living in my belly that belongs to both of us. The effects were so well aligned with your desire to have me follow you into the wilderness that I can't help but to think you planned it this way."

"A man never plans those kinds of things."

Arya placed her hand inside his tunic and began rubbing his back. "They will be gone for a long time. Do you have any plans?"

"None."

In the morning, Eragon and Arya awoke from their dreams. The memory of the previous night fresh on their minds.

"I love you," said Arya.

"It's nice to hear you say that. Very nice, and in person, too."

"When I was in Ellesméra, I wanted more than anything else to just talk and talk until everything we've done these past months had been shared. Now that I'm here, I can't remember a thing I wanted to say."

"Then let that be.

"You got my letter? The one I was sending when Firnen magiced us here?"

"I found it on the ground and read it earlier this morning. It was sweet, not very elvish."

Arya smiled, a shy smile as she tilted her head, leaning on the ground with one hand. "I love you."

"You said that."

"I'm making up for lost time. You don't mind, do you. I may be saying it a lot."

Now it was Eragon's turn to smile. He leaned over and kissed Anya. A nice kiss, nothing like the night before. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. No need to talk, no need for anything at all. Just peace. A new world and a new promise.

"Where are we?" asked Arya, suddenly. She sat up and looked around.

"Far to the east, so far that no one will ever find us. The dragons will be quite safe here."

Arya visibly relaxed, and took a deep breath. "That is good." There was a pause. "Are the Eldunari that King Galbatorx held captive still just as mad?"

"Still the same. The elves are working with them. They'll come around, all in good time."

Saphira and Firnen returned late that afternoon and carried their Riders back to the boat. There they found the others waiting - not worried, just waiting.

"Welcome Arya!" proclaimed one and all, "Welcome Firnen!"

Blödhgarm was an elf and acted as the leader of the elves who were part of this group. He had a somewhat wolfish look to him. It was magic. The elves practiced a kind of magic all their own. They sung their spells, sometimes for hours or even days. The results were always spectacular, from the grace and sturdy elven bows that they carried into battle, to the dwelling places which spouted out of the ground as if they were a new kind of tree. Thus Blödhgarm resembled a wolf. He was a great magician and a friend of Eragon, in the way of the elves – forever aloof, even haughty, but reliable and loyal.

Blödhgarm smiled, showing his pointed teeth. "I see that you found a way to join us, Arya. Necessity showed you the way, no doubt. But how? I cannot see how you came to be here."

"Magic, of course," said Eragon.

Arya only smiled.

They didn't show any surprise when Firnen landed next to Saphira, in the typical elvish fashion. Nor were they surprised to see Saphira wounded in many places. She looked over at Firnen, proud as can be. Firnen only had eyes for the boat, knowing part of its cargo was dragon eggs. He had joined ranks as a guardian of the future race of his kind. He had moved through the rites of passage that all dragons experience and had come out conqueror.

 _I will not be taken by surprise next time,_ Saphira confided in Eragon. He laughed out loud at that pronouncement. Everyone looked his way to see if he would share his mirth with them. He just shook his shoulders and returned their stares with a sly grin.

"Let us vote," proclaimed Eragon. "I say this lake is the place we settle and build our village."

"There is no need to vote, Argetlam. We all agree," said Blödhgarm. "We had time to discuss this while you were gone. But not just here; further along the shore of this lake. I sense a place of magic there. The right feeling."

"That's settled then. I trust you completely," said Eragon. Arya nodded. "We will resume our travels in the morning, along the shore of this great lake."

"And towards the mountains," said Cuaroc. "That is where our home rests. I feel an energy there that is both strong and beautiful. We all feel it. You would too, Eragon, if you weren't preoccupied." Everyone smiled.

"Now that we've settled that question," said Blödhgarm, "I want to know how Firnen and Arya came to be here."

"Magic, of course," said Eragon.

"You've already said that," replied Blödhgarm. "Arya?" Every eye was upon Arya.

"I was attempting to send a letter to Eragon as usual. Firnen's desire to be reunited with Saphira was acute. It was his magic that altered the spell to include us in the passage to this place. This has never been done before, but now that we know it is possible, we should be able to alter the spell so that it also transports the caster of the spell."

"This would mean instant travel to anywhere in this world," said Blödhgarm.

"This will change everything," murmured one of the elves.

"A Rider's secret," said Cuaroc. "This alone might end the need for battle."

"Along with our possession of The Word, the Name of the ancient language," Eragon reminded them. "Now that Arya is here, only Murtagh remains separate from us who knows that Word."

Cuaroc suggested, "Let us scry him now. He has become important to our cause."

The Word. Like the head waters of great river, this Word stood at the helm of all magic in this land. It had the final say and could neutralize or alter any other spell. This was a secret only a few ever came to possess. It was the mad King Galbatorx who discovered it. The Word was passed on to Murtagh then to Eragon and Arya. There it had stopped. Wisdom told them to keep it hidden, to keep it safe. It possessed too much power to be bantered around freely, even the ability to unbalance the world if used by the unscrupulous or evil hearted.

Yet, there was a snare, unseen by most. It can be expressed in this simple question: is it necessary to use the elvish language to cast a spell? Or is there a level of magic that resides on a deeper plane, below thought or even emotion? The Word, being elven, was attached to the level of magic where language is an essential ingredient. The Word could not have, and never would have, any sway over this deeper level of magic. Where do we find this other magic? Where do we look? It rests in one's Heart Star. But few there were who knew how to look, and only occasionally dipped into this level of magic by chance, such as when a dragon caused magic. Such as when Firnen brought himself and Arya to the meadow where Eragon and Saphira were camped.

A bowl of water was brought out and Eragon cast the spell. They saw Murtagh sitting on Thorn's back, alarm etched upon his face - fear shining from the depths of his eyes.

 _Tell me what you see, Eragon_ , said Glaedr.

 _Come into my mind and I will show you, Glaedr elda._

Eragon's mind was filled with the dragon's consciousness and Eragon felt Glaedr call to the other Eldunari to come and pay attention to what they were seeing. _Come!_ shouted Glaedr, _we are needed!_

One day, Murtagh noticed large gatherings of Urgals from all the villages, collecting supplies, and performing rituals. The shade-king directed all of this. _What are_ _they up to? Where are_ _they going?_ Murtagh questioned. He didn't like to think about who they planned to attack. There weren't many choices, and all of them were his friends, or at least acquaintances. When they finally took off at a trot due east, Murtagh and Thorn followed. Once past Du Weldenvarden and the elvish lake named Röna, they headed due south, across the plains, across an unknown river. Moving ever southward, like a hoard of hungry locusts.

 _That's settled. The Urgals are headed straight for Farthen Dûr. They mean to attack the Dwarves._ He didn't know how to feel about that. He could stop the Urgals, of that he was sure. _Would the Dwarves even see my presence as help? Or think I have come on the side of the Urgals to torment them? Most likely the later._ That thought was pragmatic. He also didn't see how the Urgals could gain entrance to Farthen Dûr. The doors were secret and many feet thick, made of solid stone. There were other ways in, though, to let archers out onto the high shelves over-looking the valley. Murtagh concluded, _The shade-king wouldn't have come this far without a plan, one that would succeed._ The closer to the Beor Mountains they got, the more careful Murtagh became, resolute to not be seen by any Dwarves.

The dwarves were fond of mining for precious metals and gems. Tunneling was a particularly excellent skill that they possessed. That is how they found a Great Hall, the inner chamber of one of the largest of the volcanoes of which this mountain range was composed. The floor of the chamber was flat, mostly, due to the ashes that had settled there eons of years ago when this world was on fire with the movement of creation, of becoming. This chamber was three miles across and five mile high.

It soon received the name of Farthen Dûr in the dwarvish tongue. Over the centuries that followed, they built the most magnificent city of stone, a mile high, with a chamber at the very top for the dragons and their Riders to stay when visiting. They called it Tronjheim.

The city was so large that, when standing in the open inside Farthen Dûr, it appeared as the night sky, filled with many twinkling lights, like stars, which were the many windows lit by lamps from within. High above, on a bright day, you could see the hole at the top of Farthen Dûr, the main vent of this ancient volcano.

The Urgals came to the final valley at last, streaming toward the lake and secret entrance, the shade-king leading the way. He blasted the cliffs with magic, killing any sentinels he noticed there. The door, the formidable door of solid stone, blew apart, sending shards in every direction. The swarm of Urgals rushed onward. Slaughter was inevitable. It appeared that there was noting Murtagh could do to stop it. Unless … Murtagh looked up at the volcanic peek high above, out of reach. Surrounded by air so thin there was nothing to breath, and covered in a crown of ice and snow.

Perhaps not out of reach, for now he was a Dragon Rider. He knew The Word. Murtagh spoke a spell that gathered air about him and Thorn so they could breathe at the higher altitudes. He warmed the air immediately surrounding him and Thorn with magic. Then Thorn sprang into the air, facing the challenge of ascent - The Ascent. Part way up, Thorn landed near some pine trees on a shelf of the cliff to catch his breath. Murtagh was thinking frantically, devising a plan that would both defeat the shade-king and guarantee victory for the dwarves. Ideas were forming but only as a vague mist in his agitated mind. _I must calm myself,_ He kept telling himself.

They stopped again. The air was too cold, and thin. His magic was failing. His wording in the ancient language was not the best approach. They landed on a ledge to rest. It was the entrance to a cave - a large cave. The biggest bear he ever laid eyes on bounded from the cave, and would have knocked them off the ledge if Thorn hadn't jumped back and hovered in mid air out of the bear's reach.

 _What a magnificent specimen. What strength. I wish I had his strength - for Thorn._ Murtagh reached for the magic and uttered The Word. Then commanded the bear's strength to be Thorn's. The wording was rough but it did the trick. The bear slumped to the ground dead and Thorn was refueled, ready for further ascension. _Well, that's a trick I must remember,_ thought Murtagh.

Inside the mountain, the dwarves were fighting with their all, slowly backing up, trapped against Tronjheim, their fortress city. The shade-king blasted rank after rank of dwarves out of the way. The Urgals slaughtered and slaughtered. Blood ran freely that day, in the twilight known as Farthen Dûr. King Orik stood his ground, dealing death to all who stood against him, having become mad with battle fever. At last two things happened almost simultaneously: The shade-king stood face to face with Orik and laughed. And Thorn reached the top of the mountain. Looking downward, he and Murtagh saw how the battle was going. Nearly lost it was. And now the shade-king had lifted Orik clean off the ground with one hand, a sword raised in the other to decapitate him.

This was the moment Eragon had chosen to scry Murtagh. There was no chance in this. No coincidence - only a greater power that sees all and, perhaps, occasionally gives this world a slight nudge. Interference is not the desire of this greater power for reasons that are most likely hidden to you - but not to me. I see the hidden designs of this world - for I have created it. The purpose of the conflict is to have conflict. Not to remove it. This is a world of opposites. If we did not wish this to be so, then we would not have come here to play. Sometimes a little interference is needed to allow the next pair of opposites to merge. This day was one of those. Eragon scried Murtagh just as he was looking down at the slaughter of the dwarvish kingdom. His heart filled with pain, with wrath, and love, especially love.

Chapter 4

"No!" Screamed Murtagh. Thorn launched off the rim and began a swift descent, a dive which was faster than a free-fall. Faster than any dragon flight, for both gravity and the strength of Thorn's magic were employed to speed their way. Murtagh screamed again, this time magnifying his voice so all could hear his approach.

The shade-king dropped King Orik and raised his eyes to see what was approaching. _A dragon_ , he thought. _Unlucky dragon. He is no match for me. The Rider might be another story. How did he know I was here? How does he come from the unreachable height of Farthen Dûr?_ He raised his sword and cast a spell to blast the dragon out of the sky. Murtagh cast his own spell, with The Word to give it power.

But more than that, through Eragon nearly one hundred of the Eldinari became aware of the dwarves' plight. They reached out through Murtagh and his spell.

The shade-king's blast turned to vapor and the shade fell to his knees, afraid for the first time during this battle. Thorn landed in a cloud of dust. The ground crackled with power.

"Fight _me_ , demon from the dark land!" said Murtagh as he jumped to the ground.

Murtagh raised his sword, aware that he was full of a power that was not his own. The shade-king struck with such veracity that any normal man would have fallen - any dwarf would have been killed. Murtagh simply flicked his wist and the shade-king's arm and sword lay on the ground.

"You cannot kill me!" screamed the shade-king. "You may destroy my body but I'll be back and I'll hunt you down, that I will!"

"No. Your life ends here. I happen to know a man who has killed two of your kind."

Then Murtagh thrust his sword forward and stabbed the shade-king in the heart. He fell to the ground, wreathing, and then his body split in two, allowing some angry spirits to depart. What was left blew away as dust a moment later.

Raising his voice, Murtagh addressed the Urgal army. "You are free. I will not pursue you. They are too weak to pursue you. If you choose to fight I will slay every last one of you."

The Urgals looked dazed as if waking from a dream, then took flight towards the tunnel exit. Soon all that was left was the dust of their retreat.

Orik stood before his kind - their king. The Eldunari had withdrawn. Murtagh stood with bowed head, waiting for Orik's onslaught, for his anger to wash over him for killing King Hrothgar. It never came. At last, Murtagh looked up.

King Orik looked puzzled, not angry. "Mine anger has been fierce towards you, Murtagh. That it has. Do you know why? Of course you do. You killed my Father!" He paused. "Today you have saved my life, all our lives. You are hard to understand - just like your brother, Eragon. What do you have to say for yourself? Eh?"

"I have no excuse for killing King Hrothgar except that we were fighting on opposite sides of a conflict. And that is no excuse for I wasn't compelled to kill him by any oath imposed on me by Galbatorix. I did it for pleasure. I am sorry. Please forgive me. The war has been hard on all of us. I seek amends." Murtagh stood there in silence waiting calmly for Orik's reply. It was long in coming.

"I forgive you," said Orik in a very soft voice. Those close by had trouble hearing Orik's reply. "Murtagh, today you have saved mine people from extinction. The price of that deed must be a pardon for past crimes. It is a hard thing to ask. I stand alone and don't expect mine fellow knurla to agree. I will ask them."

Turing outward and lifting his voice, King Orik bellowed, "I pardon Murtagh for the murder of King Hrothgar. Do you stand by me in this decision or no. I will not compel any man to pardon him, for his crime was of the blackest."

Slowly, as the proclamation spread backwards through the throng, the dwarves began to beat upon their chests. Then they began to chant a song in their native tongue. It was a song of new life, and forgiveness, of letting go of old hurts and outdated anger. Though he did not know the words, Murtagh joined in. His anger, the anger that had defined him all his life, began to melt away. He felt clean, unburdened. How much his anger had clouded his thinking he did not know until it was gone - freedom.

King Orik raised his voice and said, so all could hear, "Let us inter our dead, then there will be a feast, the like of which we have not seen since Eragon sailed east."

Shouts of joy swelled and echoed off the walls of Farthen Dûr. Soon, many hands had taken up the task of carrying their dead downward into the tunnels set aside as the final resting place of their dead, returned to the stone from which they came. Others stoked the cook fires and made ready for the victory feast. Someone had killed a Nagra, a giant boar, only a day before and it was sent for to accent the feast. A place was made for Thorn at the feast tables, as it had been for Saphira.

After many hours of carrying the dead from the battle field, King Orik and Murtagh sat together as they waited for the feast to begin, which was some undertaking.

"Have you talked to Eragon since the final battle at Urû'baen?" asked Orik.

"No. I don't even know where he is. Somewhere east along an unnamed river. That's all my scrying could tell me. I don't even know the name of the shade I killed today."

"Do you know what this means? You are now a shade slayer, like Eragon and Arya. That you are."

A slight smile graced Murtagh's face.

"You left right after the battle so you may not know this, but Eragon reworked the spell that bonded humans and elves to the dragons to include knarla and Urgals."

Murtagh looked surprised and not a little bit repulsed by this communication. "Then you disapprove of this change?" asked Orik, eyebrows raised.

"Eragon has always gone for the grand. No, I don't disapprove. It is for the best. I am surprised, yes." There was a pause before Murtagh continued. "This balances power. I can't hide that I see difficulties in this path. He has put The Word to good use. The Name of the ancient language is the one good thing that Galbatorix left behind, his one legacy. I learned it from the mad king and passed it on to Eragon. If he is wise, it will stop there."

"Arya is the only other person that Eragon shared that Word with." There was a pause while they both attempted to digest what was being said.

Murtagh frowned. "About including the Urgals, I can't see what Eragon was thinking to offer those giants the opportunity to gain more power."

"The idea is that by including the Urgal race in this magic, it would be the final blow to the powers to be in this world who prefer war to peace. One can't strive for peace and start a war in one breath. What say you?"

"OK. I grant that some of the Urgals are good at heart. I've just fought too many of them in battle to trust them."

"I feel the same way. We carried the dead down to our resting place for hours today. But I, Orik, king of the dwarvish people, am seeking peace for all … at any cost. That I am."

Changing the subject, Murtagh asked, "Has a dragon egg hatched for a dwarf yet? I know the answer is no. But tell me about the efforts made."

"We have an egg. It has not hatched for anyone who has approached it. We are hopeful, but not all. It will change our race, will it not?"

"Yes, it will change you. It will also tame the Urgals in time - lots of time. You may also find your clans vying for peace instead of conflict, in time - as the dragon's magic permeates all the races of Alagaësia."

"I find that hard to believe."

At long last, the feast began, and what a feast it was! The Nagra was sweet and succulent with just a touch of smoke and something underlying all that spoke of the untamed lands that surrounded them.

Later that evening, Murtagh and Thorn lay in their sleeping space, way up at the top of Tronjheim. It had been an eventful day. It felt good to just sit and enjoy the dark and quiet of their quarters. It gave them time to think. Murtagh had not planned to do any of this. He and Thorn had been pulled along by circumstances, into battle, and all that followed. _Now what?_ asked Murtagh.

Murtagh yearned to see Nasuada. _My heart is in Urû'baen_ , he told himself. _I wish to see her again._

 _Then let's go there_ , prodded Thorn. _Don't sit here and fret over it. Do. Be a dragon! Not a man!_

Murtgah went to the throne room the next morning. "Your majesty," he said as he bowed his head.

King Orik motioned for him speak. "Speak your heart, young Rider."

"I can't stay. I wish with all my heart to see Nasuada. Also, my training as a Rider is incomplete. I do not know what that will entail. But, expect me to return. That I will promise."

"Give Nasuada my regards and best wishes," said King Orik and released him.

Murtagh strode from the throne room and went immediately to mount Thorn and departed through the tunnels to the open air of the Beor Mountains.

After some days of travel, Thorn and Murtagh stood in the courtyard facing Queen Nasuada. She beamed with approval with what she saw: a man that has forgiven himself. For that has to come first. You must forgive yourself before you can expect those whom you have crossed to do the same. It is the way of things.

"We could use a Dragon Rider here in Ilirea," said Queen Nasuada. Murtagh looked puzzled. "Oh yes,I have restored the name of the city to its former name, the name used by the elves. Do you approve?"

"I do."

"Even if you weren't a Dragon Rider, we could use a Murtagh. I have always held you in the highest regard. You underwent extreme trials." She looked at her own forearms, still scarred heavily from her ordeal in the Trial of the Long Knives.

Murtagh said, "I think you must know that I've always though of you with more than high regard."

"Yes, I know. My own feelings are clouded by all that has happened. I do not hold your actions against you, knowing the circumstances. I want you to know that."

Murtagh was caught unaware by her kindness and a tear welled up in the corner of his eye. Nasuada chose not to see that.

"We are birthing a new world. I am the Queen overseeing it all, as far as most humans are concerned. Would you like to join me, roll your sleeves back and get to work along side me?"

"That would please me to no end. But don't ask me to control the magicians. It shouldn't be done."

"How did you know about that scheme?"

"Orik told me. It won't work. It shouldn't work."

"Why?"

"Control is never the path to freedom and peace. Freedom is. You can't let go by holding on. Let the magic of the dragons and their Riders change the hearts of the magicians, then you need only observe to see good coming from them."

"You have become wise. Eragon was of the same opinion."

"Now you have two Dragon Riders telling you the same thing, and Arya would agree. Her whole race is magical. Imagine what it would be like to control their use of magic. It shouldn't be done. Only a change of heart will do." Then he changed the subject. "What of the egg? Has the last egg hatched?"

"But of course, you wouldn't know. The last egg hatched for Arya. His name is Firnen."

"She will make a good Rider."

"She would, except that she has been selected as the new elven queen."

Murtagh frowned. "She can't be both queen and Rider."

Chapter 5

A child was born in mid winter to Arya and Eragon. He couldn't get enough of holding his child.

"Eragon, let me have the child. You must have noticed that he is hungry and that you lack any means of feeding him. Come on. Hand him over."

"But … but, he is so darling."

The birthing was gentle, in the way of the elves, for Arya sang the child into the world. They named him Torsein, which was quickly shortened to Tor. Destined to be a Lord of this world, he was unaware of anything but his small world of light and dark, of the feel of the cloth surrounding him, of hunger and sleep. He will grow soon enough. Let us let him do that and see what else this world has to offer as entertainment.

"Is it time yet?" asked Eragon, addressing the group at large.

"Do you mean: is this the place we begin traveling north towards the mountains?" asked Blödhgarm. "This is the place where we leave the lake, but we need not travel as far as our friend Cuaroc thinks. This is my opinion."

"Then this is our final camp," said Eragon as he bounced Tor on one of his knees.

"Let us contact King Däthedr and also Queen Nasuada through their mirrors and make the announcement. They will want to know," suggested one of the elves.

"Should I make a connection?" asked Blödhgarm.

 _Please do_ , requested Umaroth. _King Däthedr first._

I will make a note here to avoid confusion by saying that after the Great War, the elves removed many of their wards of secrecy and protection from the forest of Du Weldenvarden. Communication, as well as travel, was once again possible between the elven lands and the rest of Alagaësia. For this reason, Eragon was free to scry the elven land, and even talk to the King face to face through his mirror. This was a sign of better days yet to come, many of the elves declared. Arya was actually the one who instigated this change.

King Däthedr was summoned. Soon he stood before his mirror, looking every bit a king of the elves. "Eragon! You have news?"

"News, yes," said Eragon as he peered down into his bowl of water. "We have arrived at our resting place at last. A village will be built here and the dragons will have a place they can call home. They will flourish here."

"That is the desire of us all. You have done well. If there is anything I can do to aid you, you need only ask. The dragons, the Eldunari, and especially the eggs are on our minds at all times."

"Also," said Eragon, "Arya gave birth to a boy child named Torstein." Eragon held Tor up so the King could see him clearly. Eragon couldn't keep a smile from his lips as he showed off his son.

King Däthedr raised his eyebrows. "You did well, young Rider." He smiled but not with his eyes. The King then twisted his hands over his chest in the way particular to the elves and said, "Guliä waíse medh ono, Argetlam," clearly showing Eragon the respect due to him as the leader of the Dragon Riders by going first.

Eragon replied in kind, with his own hand twisted over his chest, "Atra du evarínya ono varda." The mirror faded into darkness, and Eragon looked aside, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "Now for Nasuada," said Eragon. He began to cast the spell that would connect them to her mirror.

Glader said, _I have been keeping track of Murtagh. You will find him with Nasuada._

"While you have Nasuada and Murtagh in the mirror, you might mention Tor," Arya chided Eragon. "I thought you would have told her by now or your family in Palancar Valley."

"I think of them constantly, when I'm not holding Tor, that is, but the time didn't seemed right yet."

"Then you must never think of them. Can I hold Tor, at least while you talk with Nasuada?" She smiled as she accepted Tor from his arms. She didn't mind Eragon's need to hold Tor. She found it funny actually, and found the topic a convenient way to tease her mate.

The spell was cast with the alteration that allowed them to both see and hear each other. A room appeared before them - apparently empty.

"Now what?" an elf asked.

"Hello there!" shouted Eragon.

A young man, he might have been a page, stepped forward. When he saw who was in the mirror, he turned red in the face and stood very still. "Yes, my Lord."

"Go and get Queen Nasuada and Murtagh too."

The young man dashed from the room without even replying. Within a minute or two, the room was filled again. Not only those requested arrived but Jörmundur, and many other nobles he didn't quite recall. Then one last person slipped into the room accompanied by a large cat.

"Angela!" exclaimed Eragon. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd traveled north."

"I had a hunch."

Eragon chuckled, then turned to Nasuada, saying, "I bring you good news. We have arrived, after long toil and hardship, at the place where we will build our village."

"That _is_ good news."

"And we have some other good news," said Eragon with a grin, reaching for Tor to show off to Nasuada. Then he thought better of it and motioned for Arya to step in front of the scrying bowl.

Nasuada screamed, "A baby! Your baby. Why didn't tell me?"

"I just did," teased Eargaon.

They could hear Angela mutter in the background, "He has finally acquired some wit. It took long enough."

Murtagh stepped to the front, also wanting to see the baby. A broad smile washed over his face. It was a happy smile, not the old smirk that Eragon had so often seen there. That made Eragon feel good, so good he had trouble speaking just then, with a lump in his throat.

Blödhgarm stepped forward with a wolfish grin to fill in the pause and said, "We had many reasons for contacting you at this moment. Of course you will want to know that we have arrived. We were also overcome by curiosity and bothered by a bit of our own politics."

"What do you mean?" questioned the Queen.

Side-stepping Nasuada's question, Eragon said, "We wish to hear Murtagh's story, for surely he has one or he would still be brooding in the north. So, Murtagh, son of our mother, please tell us what you've been up to. This is one reason we have made contact."

Murtagh replied, "For that telling I'd much rather be sitting with you around a fire, but I know not where you are. Can you tell me please how to find you?"

"Ah, this is a matter between Rider and Rider - not common knowledge. We were scrying you at the battle at Farthen Dûr, as you must have realized, so we know part of your story. We did not stay connected. Glaedr has kept a watch on you. For some reason he has decided that he shall be your teacher." Eragon smiled at some private joke, probably something to do with Glaedr's volatile personality.

"Meet me in the cave where Brom died three days hence and I will be there waiting for you. Do not tell anyone where that place is."

"But you said yourself that you would never return to Alagaësia."

"If Rhunön can make my sword though she swore never to do so, then I can appear at that cave. The very fact that I am there will change its true name, making it separate from Alagaësia, a new land, for I swore that I would not return and so that cave must not be part of the land. It was foolish of me to take Angela's prophecy literally. I am the master of my destiny, no other."

"So mote it be. I will meet you there in three days time."

As the mirror went dark, they could just hear Angela's voice, whisper, "So, they have discovered a way to travel instantly from one place to another." Then a muffled voice and, "That's obvious."

Eragon said, "Now, we need to rewrite the spell so that it works without the chance of dragon magic. Umaroth, Glaedr, Blödhgarm, Arya, help me unravel this mystery."

They sat in silence and conversation working out the most likely way to alter the spell for transferring not only an object but the caster of the spell to a new location instantly. In the end, it was a simple alteration, adding only two words. Eragon stood, stepped away from the others and cast the spell. He instantly disappeared in a flash of heat and light and reappeared across the lake.

"Great!" he shouted. "It worked!"

He cast the spell again and returned to a place in the air above his friends. "It worked!" he shouted as he magically glided to the ground.

"What did you expect? Failure?" scolded Blödhgarm. "We are the best in the land."

"We are the only ones in the land," returned Arya with a smile.

"That is settled. Now for the adventure of selecting the place for our village," said Eragon.

"For that we need daylight," said Arya. "And I, for one, am tired and need to rest."

Chapter 6

Murtagh trudged along behind his dragon, Thorn. They were in a ravine to keep out of sight. The vegetation was sparse. The only sound was that of their feet pushing through the sand, making a crunching sound. Small fluffy clouds flitted across the sky from west to east. They rounded a corner and without warning, a large Urgal stood, who raised his arms above his head and baring his throat, he gave out a bellow that echoed up and down their ravine and well beyond.

Murtagh stepped to the side of Thorn, and waited to see what would happen next.

"For the first time in all our history, a warlord has surrendered his station without battle. I, Nar Garzhvog, have done this. He would never have bested me. And I need to be here with you."

"Explain," said Murtagh, not altogether comfortable with being so near an eight-foot Urgal kull.

In that moment, a small dragon climbed over his back, clinging to Garzhvog's shoulder. She opened her mouth and a small stream of smoke shot out along with a snarl. Thorn looked at the new dragon with interest, touching minds with her for a moment.

"So it's true. The Urgals are now able to become Dragon Riders."

"It is true. Now three of the four races of Alagaësia are included this magic, Eragon Fire Sword being our chief."

"Then come, and you are welcome. We go to meet Eragon, as you must in some way know."

"Lead the way."

They walked in silence for the most part. It was the kind of silence that was almost a conversation. Murtagh and Thorn had decided to travel the last portion of his trip on the ground to keep hidden from prying eyes, though Murtagh could have used magic to become invisible. Meeting the Urgal like this made Murtagh acutely aware that another power was directing his decisions. Garzhvog needed to find Murtagh on the ground and come along. The legacy of the Riders was already strong in this one.

That evening, the evening of the second day, Murtagh and Garzhvog sat around a small fire in a hidden cave, the one Murtagh and Eragon had sat it so long ago, it seemed. Brom was dying then. Everything had changed. There was nothing in this world that had a chance of threatening the two of them and their dragons. Yet, secrecy was vital.

"Tell me about yourself," requested Murtagh. "I know little of your race and less about you personally. You were a friend of Eragon's, I take it by the way you say his name."

"Friends, yes. He did something for my race that I will never understand. Only love could have caused this - the love of a human for an Urgal. This has changed all of our lives, not just mine. Humans have always tormented and hunted my race."

Murtagh looked as if he might reply with a rebuttal - as if he might say, _And not without cause_. He remained silent.

Garzhvog continued, "I also wish to better understand humans. We are destined to work together for the greater good. The fastest way to learn is to open our minds to each other. For this, we will need to trust. Can you trust me? I trust Eragon. You are more like him than you let on."

Murtagh remained silent for a moment. "I trust you as a Rider and a friend. Enter my mind and see the world of humans."

Garzhvog looked and looked. He didn't seem to get enough of searching Murtagh's memories. Then, at last, it became Mutagh's turn to search the world of the Urgralgra. The one thing that stood out above all else was that their similarities far outshone their differences. When Murtagh reached the part of Garzhvog's memories that showed the battle at Farthen Dûr and Durza's demise, he saw an Urgal kull fighting a lone human. The human outwitted the kull at every turn - jumping high to avoid being sliced in two, blocking backhanded and sliding between the giant's legs, to avoid a fatal blow. Then Murtagh realized that he was the human and Garzhvog was the kull. He remembered how that conflict ended. Neither of them could best the other, neither of them wished to, and in the end, they simply stepped back from each other and moved on to less worthy opponents.

Murtagh recalled thinking about that fight later, having to readjust some judgments he had about Urgal honor - about their creeds, their sense of right and wrong, and especially about their intelligence. _No wild beast would act with such emotions as nobility or respect,_ he had thought at the time. Hopefully, Garzhvog that day had made the same conclusions about humans. Humans were not all grasping, evil, diseased infested, heartless animals that many of them proved to be. Sharing minds is all it took, in this case, to clarify Murtagh's recollections about Urgal honor.

Garzhvog nodded. "Yes, it was I you fought. I recall it well. I backed away because I could not, in good conscious, kill such a masterful fighter as you. It went against my culture to let you go. We Urgralgra fight for supremacy among our clans. In this act, I betrayed my culture. It was as if an higher ideal had presented itself and I accepted. From that experience was birthed an ideal, a truth, one that has burned brightly in my mind ever since.

"I do not think that the value in the Dragon Riders is in their superior fighting, but in their superior morals. The Riders failed the last time they rose. Let us make sure that doesn't happen this time. Let us teach peace in words and in our actions. Always seeking reconciliation before conflict of power."

"Masterfully spoken, friend," replied Murtagh. "You are a greater thinker and diplomat than fighter, and you are a great fighter."

In the morning, at first light, Eragon walked into the cave. "Do you realize how late in the day it is where I come from?"

"Eragon!" Murtagh jumped to his feet, hand extended.

Garzhvog raised his head in the typical Urgal greeting, saying, "Fire Sword. How can we answer you until you tell us where you are camped?"

"I can do better than that. I'll take you there. But first I must explain that we have hundreds of dragon consciousnesses living among us there, some of them quite mad. So be prepared. This is a great secret of the dragon race. My first inclination was to ask you to swear to me in the ancient language that you will not reveal this knowledge to anyone outside our order, but …"

"I am willing," said Garzhvog.

"That will not be necessary. You have proven yourself to me over and over. Let us be off." Eragon gestured with his hand towards the entrance as an invitation to depart. Murtagh stood and kicked sand into the fire, extinguishing it. Outside, Thorn and Saphira sat on a ledge, getting acquainted. Garzhvog, with his baby dragon, climbed up behind Eragon on Saphira and Murtagh mounted Thorn. The dragons leaped into the sky in flight. Then Eragon took them to the new land using the now very familiar new spell. They appeared in the air above the lake and the dragons glided down to the camp, landing with a thud. Thorn and Saphira Immediately wanted their saddles taken off.

Thorn was standing back from the group with caution and some confusion. Saphira flicked her tongue out at him, and Firnen howled in a playful way. Thorn crawled forward on his belly as a dog would among friends. Garzhvog looked around with great interest while his baby dragon rested between his horns, pawing the top of his head like a bed of reeds.

Then the Eldunarí suddenly surrounded the newcomers, especially Thorn. Then he knew for certain that he was safe, among friends, among kin. Cuaroc came over and sat by Thorn, placing a metal hand on his shoulder.

The dragons were all but forgotten as the humans, elves, and an Urgal sat facing each other. At first they only stared. Then one by one they began to grin. Murtagh broke the silence. "In case you hadn't noticed, we, those who sit here, have become the rulers of this world. None will oppose us. The Riders have risen again. The question is, really, will this bring good or evil? I have a simpler question: how did we just move from there to here in a moment. We are no short distance from Alagaësia if I can judge the sun correctly."

"I will gladly tell you," said Eragon. "As I said to Garzhvog, I trust you, and no promise of secrecy will be needed. But, think about this: instant transport to any place in the land! That is a power to be reckoned with, and would turn any conflict we encounter to our favor. What would a rebellious city do if a dozen dragons and Riders suddenly appeared above them? Surrender, I think.

"We are all friends here. We must trust each other, as you trusted me, brother, with The Word."

"Well said," exclaimed Blödhgarm and a murmur of agreement followed from all.

Eragon continued, "I will let Arya explain because it was her and Firnen who discovered how to do this."

She taught Murtagh the spell. He was impressed by its simplicity.

"Masterful! A beautiful adaptation of an old spell," said Murtagh. He was in awe. "If headquarters is to be way the heck out here, then this spell will become handy. Yes indeed."

Arya then said to Garzhvog, "You have not yet been taught the basics of magic. This spell will make sense to you in time. I will be your teacher."

"That is true. I am not a magician," said Garzhvog. "I lead my clan in the matters of war. But, let me share my thoughts: the light and heat are not needed. They will alert everyone of our arrival. This is not good way to travel, to tell everyone we are there. Also, we cannot arrive in a room or hut without destroying it. Is there no way to remove the light and heat from this spell?"

Blödhgarm looked uncomfortable. He looked over at Eragon to see what he thought. Eragon's eyes were cast to the ground, deep in thought. At last, Eragon looked up and asked, "Any suggestions?"

"This is an ancient spell. I am not even certain of how these words are working to move an object," said Blödhgarm. He did not look happy about this.

"Maybe," said Eragon. "Let us ask where the fire and heat is coming from? If we are creating it from the ether, then we are wasting energy to do so, which may account for why this spell drains us of so much energy."

"What if we changed medr to kaustor?" asked Arya. "Would that narrow the creative character of the spell to travel only? The original elf who wrote this spell may have been wanting it to appear grand – a fault of some of my race, I admit."

"Possible," admitted Glaedr. The Eldunari had become interested in the conversation.

"Who wants to try the spell with the new word?" asked Eragon.

Blödhgarm got up without a word, bowed and walked off into the woods. A moment later he returned. "The spell failed. … I am still alive. As I said, we don't really understand how this spell works."

Murtagh added, "Let's be satisfied with the spell as it stands … for now. Agreed?"

Garzhvog said, "Agreed." Everyone else followed with assorted nods and words.

"It is a marvelous spell as it stands," stated Eragon. "Perhaps someday one of our order will write a better one. Until then ..."

"Now what?" asked Murtagh.

"You will tell us what you're been doing for the past couple of months," said Eragon. "Then Glaedr will teach you the finer points of being a Rider, as well as teach Thorn, which means you should plan on living here for a while, perhaps less than a year. I know where your heart is."

"My heart is pulling me in many directions."

Eragon said, "Actually, we all have something to offer this order. Arya and I will share our observations - yes, and Murtagh, you could share what you have learned if you cared to, and that goes for you, Garzhvog, as well. You have knowledge that is permanent to establishing this order or you wouldn't have been chosen to be here in this council." Looking at the elves, Eragon continued, "Blödhgarm, and those elves that have accompanied us as caretakers of the eggs and Eldunarí, your vast wisdom is also welcome, for the elves are, for the most part, at peace with themselves - a feat that the other races have yet to boast of. And then there are the Eldunarí. They are past masters, a depository of all that was lost, and now is found. And our bonded dragons as well! And all the unborn or young." He glanced at Tor and Garzhvog's small dragon.

That started a rich conversation, one of sharing, of crossing cultural lines and smudging out boundaries and differences.

A general plan for a small village was also created. They only needed a place, which they decided to focus on finding the next day. Murtagh and Garzhvog agreed to stay in this new land for the time, to learn and to help build the order. A communication was set up between a bowl of water and Nasuada's mirror. Murtagh explained the way things were, that he would be gone for a while, but he would return in time, better for it, certainly better prepared to assist her in the duties she has chosen.

"The Riders are not here to rule any part of Alagaësia, not even by subtle influence. We plan to rule by change of heart," said Murtagh.

"Eragon said much the same. Am I doomed to forever wait upon those I need to finish their training?" She smiled. "Of course I am."

Creating a new world was too exciting to let a little thing like sleep get in the way.

Chapter 7

The next day, as the sun rose over the east, they sat around a small fire, enjoying breakfast. The location of their city would be the work of the day. Thorn offered to carry Garzhvog with Murtagh. Arya took Blödhgarm on Firnen. The other elves stayed behind with Cuaroc to guard the Eldunarí. And of course, Eragon and Saphira lead the way. Not too long into the morning, they came upon a plateau, verdant, covered with a variety of the loveliest trees any of them could recall seeing - even in Ellesméra which was mostly conifer. Against the mountain at the far end of this natural shelf, they found a large cave that seemed to go on and on into the mountain. Eragon thought of the dwarves.

The Eldunarí were brought up to assist in reshaping the interior of the cave to give it a civilized touch. The stored energy of the Eldunarí was more than ample to smooth out the walls, ceiling and floor. Next, a place was created to house the eggs before they were brought to their new home, along with their guardians. A separate chamber to the far end of the plateau was found for the mad ones. Some of the elves located there.

"The boat. We should bring the boat up here. We won't be needing it for sailing," said Murtagh.

"He's right,"agreed Garzhvog. Some of the Eldunarí came along to give their energy and soon the three dragons could be seen flying into the area directly in front of the cave carrying the boat. It landed with a thud. It was dismantled with magic and fitted into the cave as furnishings, such as a badly needed table, some benches, not enough, and small tools such as paper, quill and ink. Beds were made of rushes found down by the lake. There was no privacy. Garzhvog complained the loudest about this, surprisingly.

By the end of the week, the task was complete. They sat down to a celebration feast to mark this accomplishment.

The next morning, as Earagon walked out of the cave, he found the elves already singing some of the trees into small houses. Arya looked pleased and walked out into the trees looking for the biggest one. Her house was destined to be big enough for two, two Riders and two dragons – plus a small room for Tor. She insisted on the help of the Eldunarí, especially of Glaedr, who was pleased by this request so much they could almost see him smiling. Garzhvog began the construction of an Urgal lodge made of saplings and bark and an adobe oven for warmth and cooking. The cave was kept warm by the heat of some spell that the elves wished to keep to themselves. Things were looking good. They began to feel settled in.

The days became weeks as their efforts continued to blossom into a small village, with the cliff at their backs and a breathtaking view of the lake before them - lush woodlands and meadows everywhere around them.

Over the next few days, many finishing touches were added to their community complex, not quite a village and certainly no longer a camp. One thing of note that was added was a mirror that Arya created and Blödhgarm connected with Queen Nasuada's mirror, a mirror of King Orik's set aside for this purpose, one for King Orin's court, and one at a central village of the Urgals, though they boasted of no leader to unite them, favoring the traditional autonomous village governments instead.

The people of Nasuada's lands were under the illusion that the Riders were too far away to be any threat to their free use of treachery for personal gain - except for Nasuada, Angelia, and perhaps Solembum. Eragon's statement that he would meet Murtagh at a cave in three day's time seemed to just float right over the rest of the nobles who were in the room. Angela had jumped to the conclusion that the travel time would be instantaneous, not take three days, and could connect any two places in the land. Sharp girl. We must keep a watch on her. People in general tended to ignore her comments. Perhaps she has always said the ridiculous for that very reason – to throw people off from the truth when it mattered that they remained blind. There is no better place to hide a thing than out in plain sight.

One evening, talk turned to the Dwarves. "How can we assist them?" asked Arya. Tor ran past her to jump up onto Garzhvog's dragon, named Frey, incidentally. Frey was getting to be quite large by this time.

"If you don't know, no one will," commented Eragon. "You've spent more time with them than anyone else here."

Arya frowned. "They just might never come around, without a nudge."

 _I'll go_ , said Glaedr, one of the Eldunarí. _I risk being smashed to bits so they can make rings out of me, but I'll go. Maybe if they were around a dragon mind, they would begin to understand the need for the dwarves to be included in this magic. For I fear that even though Eragon cast the spell, if they never accept, then the magic is devoid of power to make a change. They will remain rooted in the past, in their stubborn need for bickering and turmoil. I will go._

"You are forgetting that the existence of the Eldunarí is a secret!" exclaimed Murtagh. "The Dwarves aren't stupid or devoid of magicians. They will know that you are there. And don't say you'll hide at the top of Tronjheim. They'll climb up there to find out what this unknown source of power is with in a day of your arrival."

 _Silence youngling! Do you think that I do not know all of this!_ Glaedr's consciousness was threatening to overflow into a rage.

"I ask you're pardon, Master," replied Murtagh with bowed head. "It's just that much is at risk, no matter what the path."

"Student and teacher," whispered Eragon into Arya's ear. She smiled, but kept her eyes riveted on Murtagh.

"I trust you, Glaedr," said Murtagh. "You know that, after what you've put me through. I just don't want to see you in harm's way. My first gut response to your offer was, 'Don't do this. There must be a better way!' But you are right, your presence there will aid our cause."

"I can go," said Garzhvog. "I am not afraid of the dwarves. Frey can now fly with my bulk on her back." He looked towards Arya to see if this was acceptable. She gave the slightest shake of her head, and he bowed his head and replied, "As you see fit, Arya, Master."

"You cannot go alone," said Blödhgarm. He was holding one of the dragon eggs in his lap. It was humming.

"I will go with Glaedr," said Murtagh. "If he will have me as a companion. And if he will finish my training as a Rider while there."

 _I accept,_ said Glaedr. _The dwarves trust you after that fortunate turn of events with the northern Urgals. And you promised to return._

"Orik didn't like me saving them one bit. He needed to hate me and I let him, but … what could he do but pardon my crimes of the past, with a dead shade laying at my feet?"

Arya frowned. "Although I think Murtagh should definitely go along, in fact I think he must, the number is not complete."

"What do you mean?" asked Eragon.

"About Glaedr and Murtagh going to live with the dwarves," continued Arya. "I think a number of Eldunarí should go too, perhaps twenty, for both protection and support."

 _But the secret, our secret!_ Saphira but in. Her head swiveling around to look at them from where the dragons were all nested together.

Arya continued, "We need not tell them exactly what the Eldunarí are, although Orik has already met them, if you recall. Given their religious leanings, the dwarves will easily believe the Eldunari are the souls of dragons returned to usher in this new age."

"And when they learn the truth?" asked Eragon, a worried look behind his eyes. "What then?"

Arya was thinking about the vision she had of her deceased mother. She had not yet told anyone about that kink in her beliefs, not even Eragon. "It's not too far from the truth," offered Arya as an excuse for the lie.

In the end, Arya's idea won. Murtagh liked it a lot. Eragon ceded his need for total honesty … for the greater good. _It will all work out in the end_ , he comforted himself by saying. Saphira was on his side in this, but kept quiet. For once she was content to let the walk-on-two-legs work out their own problems.

Eragon sat alone before the mirror that connected him with the various leaders of Alagaësia. He connected his mirror to the mirror in the dwarf kingdom with a spell, quite familiar it was becoming too. King Orik was sent for. It was late afternoon in the dwarf kingdom, though only twilight shone in Farthen Dur.

"Eragon! Glad to see you! What brings you to mine mirror? Everything alright?"

"Couldn't be better."

"We don't visit often enough. I'd love to see you again, Eragon my friend - in person, that is."

"That can be arranged, but you would have to come here."

"Maybe later. Can't be managed any time soon. Things are too out of hand."

"The clans giving you trouble again?"

"More than you can imagine! Blast this senseless, constant lack of cooperation! Barzûl! But I'll cope. Always do. Just don't send Arya. Gannel, Grimstborith of Dûrgrimst Quan, is causing the most trouble and she always aggravates him – needlessly too, in my opinion." Orik looked at Eragon, with a quick glance. "No offense meant."

"None taken. I was there when she chose to argue over the existence of the dwarf gods with Gannel. She got him tied in a knot."

"That she did." Orik chuckled. "Then you can see why she shouldn't come just yet. Send Murtagh and Thorn. I've had time to attempt sorting out his involvement in the war, especially the murder of our king, and to tell you the truth, we're still a long ways from forgiving him. His recent actions speak in his favor, that goes with out question. Can't work this out, though, with Murtagh halfway around the world. Send him, he and his red dragon."

"There is something else. I would like to send twenty Eldunari with Murtagh. He will keep them safe and away from harm. Glaedr, the dragon of my late master, Oromis, is one of them. He is a noble soul and wishes very much to help you in this time of need - to help you restore order."

"I do not object, but I fear that many of the knurla will."

"You will not be sorry."

"You really want me to do this - to allow these dragon minds to enter our realm?"

"Actually, I opposed it. But I now see the wisdom the others offered. This is the safest and quickest way to peace, for all of Alagaësia, not just for the lands of the dwarves. What say you?"

"Will they leave if we say to - without question or hesitation?"

"Yes."

"Then send them, with my blessings."

Chapter 8

The next day was a day of departing and rejoining, missions conferred and old friends greeted. Eragon was stepping into his role as leader of the Riders in full and quite enjoying himself.

Twenty Eldunarí were concealed within an invisible container like the one used before when Ergaon and Saphira brought some of the Eldunarí back from Doru Araeba to help fight Galbatorix.

"Murtagh, you may head for Tronjheim anytime now, since the twenty Eldunarí are ready for travel. I'll suggest housing them at the top of Tronjheim, where I and Saphira slept. But it's your call. You have to follow your instincts. Also take a second egg, make it one of the big ones. Dwaves, as small as they are, are drawn to the grand. They will be impressed with a large egg. And thank you. This is no light matter you are undertaking and, let me remind you, dangerous. Farewell … brother."

"Farewell." They clasped hands to forearms and Murtagh departed.

"Blödhgarm, I have a task for you to match your noble bearing and ability to face danger without flinching. I wish you to take a second egg to Garzhvog's village. Take him and his dragon with you, or you may be attacked. And, please, carry that dragon egg you favor with you everywhere you go until it hatches for you."

"How will we get there without a dragon back to ride? Garzhvog's dragon cannot as yet carry such a load. We will need a dragon's energy to fuel the spell."

"A man of your talents can surely work that little problem out."

"As you wish, Argetlam," and he departed.

Eragon leaned back. "Things are shaping up." A grin spread across his face.

Arya, who was sitting by his side observing him also smiled. "You would not recognize yourself if the boy who left Palancar Valley could have looked into the future at this day. I am proud of you." She took his hand and gave it gentle squeeze.

"What comes next? Anything left undone?" he asked.

"Talk to Roran. He is pining for some sort of word from you. Have you forgotten him?"

Eragon sighed. "Not forgotten. I feel as besieged with tasks as any king. Will you and Firnen go for him. He will trust you, and I cannot go, or will not."

"I have been waiting for this. I will go now." Arya rose and left the cave, with a backward glance and a smile as she slipped out of sight. A minute or two later, Eragon saw Firnen's shadow pass across the open space in the center of their village barely visible to him.

While she was gone, Eragon began to ponder what the dwarf nation would think of this cave of theirs. Not grand, but then he was not a dwarf, not even a miner. He must have dozed off because he awoke with a start when Arya and Roran walked in. He jumped to his feet and straightened his tunic. Roran strode across the room, embracing Eragon - then holding him out at arm's length, hands planted on his shoulders.

"I'm so glad to see you! I just wish you hadn't waited so blasted long." He released Eragon and they all took chairs and faced each other.

"You're an Earl now, if I recall," said Eragon. "Earl of Palancar Valley., so you may understand my own plight when you consider that I am attempting to manage all of Alagaësia. I have been think of you, all of you. How is the little one?"

"Not so little now, unless you mean Rebecca, our youngest."

Eragon bolted upright. "A second child? You could have sent me word!"

"Oh, that's rich. You chiding me for not telling you. Where is Tor?"

Eragon sent a mental word to Tor, saying, _Come to the cave and see your Uncle Roran._

 _What?_ was all Eragon got in reply then an image of a speeding arrow running up the hill from the orchard.

"He'll be here shortly," said Eragon. "Tor can't really run too well yet but he's discovered ways to move fast using magic if his need is great."

Tor rushed in at that moment and unrolled at their feet.

They all laughed. Roran said, " You didn't tell me that when elves and humans have kids they got a roly poly bug. Come here Tor and sit on my lap. I'm your Uncle Roran and have come from half way around the world to see you." Tor smiled and climbed up to pull on his beard.

There wasn't much to tell about Roan's work and life in Palancar Valley, quite boring actually. Eragon wanted to hear every detail. A new Carvahall village was under construction and food was plentiful. The site for a small castle had been located. It was a time of happiness and sorrow - a time to heal and move on.

Food was brought out and consumed. The light was fading outside and lights were turned on in the cave, much like the lamps that the dwarves used. A fire was lit in the fireplace which their chairs surrounded, this being a favorite place to gather in the evening, that and Garzhvog's Lodge.

Their conversation had long turned to Eragon's new order, the problems he faced and all the many strings he had to pull to keep his many-headed puppet balanced and on stage.

Roran could sympathize with him, but only to a point.

Eragon looked at the mirror which sat against the wall near them, his link to his old homeland, and blinked. "On one hand, I want so much to see them succeed, to find peace. Sometimes I dream of starting over and forgetting all the troubles of our old world - forging a new land where a select few from each race could relearn the lessons we must have forgotten throughout the ages: of synergistic cooperation, brother and sisterhood, peaceful cohabitation, gratitude, love. Oh, you know what I'm trying to say, even if I'm failing miserably."

"Yes, I know," responded Arya. "Leaders of the many cultural groups throughout time have all faced these feelings, at least the honorable ones. I have forsaken the task of leading my own race, the älfakyn, in exchange for being a parent, with you as my partner. I am watching you from the sidelines, seeing and not doing. But listen to me for a moment, my love, to my wisdom and years of experience with life. Let Alagaësia be what it will be. Do not over concern yourself with the outcome."

"I agree with Arya," said Roran. " You do not live there any more, and, ultimately, you are not responsible for the outcome of their decisions. They are, the people who live there are. I am - within my own area of influence. Oh, I can feel your longing to be in Alagaësia still. I listened to your plans to convert Helgrind into a palace of the grandest dimensions, with portals into this new land which is new, fresh, full of promise.

"Let the people of Alagaësia be. And let these wonders be your wonders. The riches of this land belong to your descendants, not mine."

Eragon sighed. "You are wise, both of you. You know me better than I know myself." Looking at Arya, he said, "Patience, my love? Let me play. Let us all discover together the role the Riders will have on Alagaësia's future. Then I will step back and not even watch … not too much."

"As you wish," said Arya. Roran looked pleased.

Roran went home shortly after that, with a promise to come back with his family sometime the next summer to stay for a few weeks.

Chapter 9

Murtagh settled into the Rider's quarters at the top of Tronjheim, removed the Eldunari from their magical container, then placed wards of protection around the chamber and spells of invisibility for the Eldunari and their boxes. He placed the new and rather large egg there as well and kept it secret from the dwarves.

He was exhausted. It took a lot of energy to come all this way and cast all those spells. He had promised to come down and visit with the dwarves, but that never happened. He dosed off, promising himself that all he needed was a little nap, but he slept on into the night.

King Orik mentally contacted Umaroth in the early evening to see what was keeping Murtagh. Umaroth replied that he was sleeping. _Let him sleep. He will come down tomorrow._ That satisfied King Orik, and he put it out of his mind.

In the darkest hour of the night, Murtagh awoke with a start. He was in a sweat, with a premonition that Nasuada was in danger. Thorn was up and moving back and forth in an agitated fashion. Murtagh didn't even stop to scry Nasuada to see what was up. They just went, and jumped to Nasuada's court. _I'll be back before morning,_ he told himself. He didn't make it back so soon. The trouble turned out to be an attempted assassination. The city was protected against this sort of thing, Eragon's doing, but a clever magician found a loophole. Murtagh hunted the assassin down which took time. Then he had to devise a new spell.

The point is, the Eldunari were left alone all that time in a potentially hostile environment. The next morning, Umaroth told King Orik about Murtagh's need to leave. News that an assassin had attacked Queen Nasuada disturbed King Orik.

Not two days after Murtagh had left, Gannel stormed into the a sitting room where Orik was reading a scroll and demanded to know what Orik had placed at the top of Tronjheim.

"Dragon souls, I believe," replied Orik, not liking the predicament that Eragon had placed him in.

"Dragon souls set free in this world of the living? What evil is this? I'm going up to see for myself. There has not been such a storm of energy here since the olden days of our great-great sires."

"I wouldn't go up there just yet. Wait until Murtagh returns."

"This is his doing? I told you I didn't trust him." Gannel sat down.

'Well, I _do_ trust him and we're waiting … for a proper introduction." Orik looked at his old friend, Gannel, and hoped he would understand. "Trust me, Gannel. This will be a good thing. It's true that these dragon minds can be a handful at times, but they are not evil - far from it. They possess the wisdom that this world has lost. And, they helped Eragon kill Galbatorix. He out witted the mad king without knowing what he was doing. The Eldunari saw the possibilities and expanded on his idea which overthrew Galbatorix's mind to the point where he killed himself. You know the story. But you did not know who it was that was helping Eragon. And this is my last argument: it was they, the Eldunari, who assisted Murtagh to slay the Urgal shade, just recently."

Orik sent a silent plea to the Eldunari, C _an you hear me?_ prodded Orik. _What should I tell him without divulging your secrets?_

 _I will talk to him directly,_ said Umaroth.

Orik remained silent, worry began building inside him, hoping Umaroth would be gentle – not one of his strongest characteristics.

Suddenly Gannel grabbed the arms of the chair he was sitting in, knuckles white, his eyes protruding in utter surprise. In his mind he could hear a voice like an avalanche, over taking him, demanding his complete attention.

The voice said, _I am Umaroth, the dragon bonded with Vrael, the leader of the Riders before Galbatorix murdered us and nearly every other dragon and Rider. We expect your cooperation …_ and in a gentler voice, _You and your people will be blessed for it, beyond measure, beyond imagination. Allow_ _us to stay here and begin the great work of rebuilding Alagaësia and the order of Riders._

Gannel slumped down into his chair, completely exhausted by this exchange.

 _I cannot say no, though I am the priest of this people. Do as though wilt. I will not oppose you. But be warned! We are a proud people. Handle us with gentleness and subtly and you will win our hearts. You already have mine._

Then turning to Orik, he said, "I will not oppose the Eldunari staying in our kingdom. May the gods protect us."

Umaroth contacted Murtagh with a mental command. _Murtagh! You are needed. Come back to Tronjheim._

 _I can't. I'm this close to catching the assassin who made an attempt on Nasuada's life._

 _Can you remove the wards from where you are? And make just me visible?_

 _Yes. I think I can._

 _Then do it._ A few minutes later Umaroth winked into sight, along with his box - a lone box sitting against the far wall of the chamber.

 _I have thought it over,_ said Umaroth to Orik and Gannel. _I see now that Eragon and the others chose a less effective way of explaining us to you. I will correct their mistake. Please, come up to the top chamber of this marvelous city of yours._

"OK. We'll go right now," said Orik. "We can get some hardy young dwarfs to send us up the lift by pulling on ropes."

Not too much later, Orik and Gannel were standing on the Rose Sapphire, Isidar Mithrim, looking around, wondering why their ears were buzzing. A voice came into their heads, saying, _You hear me, you feel the others. Yes?_

"Yes."

 _We are not invisible. We are the consciousness of dragons long dead. I am Umaroth, the dragon bonded with Vrael, the leader of the Riders in years past. But what am I now?_

"I see nothing," answered Gannel "Show yourself!"

 _Look in the wooden box against the wall._

Orik opened the box and a light flashed out of it, illuminating the chamber. Umaroth's Eldunari was the source of light. Orik's eyes sparkled. Gannel took a sharp intake of breath.

 _Come forward,_ commanded Umaroth. _What do you see?_

"Cyrstal, the most glorious crystal," said Orik.

"Living rock," said Gannel.

 _Touch me and delve into my consciousness._

Each of the dwarves knelt before Umaroth's Eldunari and placed a palm on the pulsing crystal. Immediately, they were fill with light, with thoughts of an immense alien mind, engulfing them, pulling them into the world that was his. They sat there spell bound by the experience. At last they withdrew.

"You are made of stone like the knurla," said Orik.

 _Think again. I am stone, you are not. You can see me, touch me. What part of you is stone?_

"Look deeper, Umaroth. Why do you think we are so careful to bury our dead within the stone of the mountains."

 _I know not._

"To keep our heart of stone safe."

 _Do not speak in riddles!_ exploded Umaroth.

"Then come with us to the burial chambers below this city. Come with your mind. You can see through me if you have the need. Come and you will see one of the best kept secrets of the knarla."

Gannel nodded approval, and the two dwarves left the chamber and signaled the waiting dwarf lads that they were ready to be let down the way they had come. Down and down, to the main floor, then deep underground, they went, taking Umaroth with them like a parrot sitting on their shoulders, an invisible parrot with a mind like the eye of a storm. A door was opened and pitch darkness reigned beyond. It was an endless expanse of burial crypts, the place where the dwarves interred their dead within stone. Umaroth followed, mind keenly aware of everything, seeing nothing.

 _Your people are made of stone, but they live not. I am stone and I am alive._

"That is right. They have passed on. Do you not wish to pass on? To see your Rider again?"

 _That is not possible._

"You have been taught that by the elves. They have lead you astray,"said Gannel.

Then addressing the other Eldunari, Umaroth asked, _What do you think of all this? Glaedr?_

 _I do not know. I am confused. We are all confused._

Orik and Gannel made their way back into the light, up the many stairs and onto the main floor of Tronjheim.

"Umaroth, will not you and your kind come down so all may see the living stone?"

 _No. We cannot. If we move, Murtagh must do it. But, tomorrow, bring your leaders, those you deem important, and the candidates wishing to bond with a newly hatched egg. Bring them and we will all appear. And something else as well. You will be pleased. Any race that can or would create such a city would be pleased. Come - on the morrow._

Umaroth contacted Murtagh again. He had just killed the assassin. _I'll be there soon,_ said Murtagh. When he arrived, he removed the Eldunari's invisibility as requested by Umaroth. And he opened their boxes. Then he slept.

Rumors flew that night. Fifty dwarves were chosen among their race to ascend to the top chamber. Many ropes and lifts were improvised, then put into use to carry this dwarvish hoard up and up - to the very top of their city. As they arrived, though the rumors were vivid, it did not prepare them for the sight of twenty orbs of crystal pulsing with life. Then there was the egg. Twice as tall as any dwarf, it was. This caught their imagination like a wildfire. The ordinary egg was OK, but an egg of this proportion, with the promise of containing a heart of stone just like the dwarves, sent them into a frenzy. All now wanted to be a Dragon Rider.

The door had opened. The last of the races of Alagaësia had finally accepted the challenge. Yet they knew not what it would do to them, or to their whole world.

Murtagh was accosted with questions, the one asked most often was: "When can we be given another egg and can it be one of these big ones?" Word was sent and three more large eggs were brought, this time placed on the main floor under the Rose Sapphire, the Isidar Mithrim, where the Eldunari and first egg had been relocated. Thorn and Murtagh resided at the top of Tronjheim.

These dragons hatched in no time and were sent off with their Riders to the new land for training. That took time. When they returned they took their place among the dwarves as Riders. At long last, the dwarves were sharing in the dragon magic. Murtagh went to live in Ilirea, taking Glaedr with him. Glaedr returned to the land eastward when Murtagh's training was complete.

We will let time slip by because a pause in events came about quite naturally right here in this tale, with not much happening of note. Aside from the dwarf Dragon Riders who slept in the woods with their dragons when visiting the village, a group of dwarves now resided in their own chamber deep behind the cave, where they found precious gems and wonders that their kind were drawn to - underground lakes and waterfalls, and lots of gold, lots of gold.

The Urgals did just as well. An Urgal lodge was in full swing on one side of the village square. One Urgal Rider was a female, which outraged the clans. _The dragon choses_ , is all that Garzhvog could say as an explanation. They dared not challenge him.

Blödhgarm's dragon finally hatched for him. Two of the other elves bonded with dragons as well. The rest chose to continue their work with the mad Eldunari.

Of course, the dragons were enjoying this immensely. The eggs not meant to be bonded were set loose and allowed to hatch. They were slow in waking up, but once they did, they flew off to the north, eager to explore. Let's not forget Saphira, though she has contributed little to our tale in this fifth book. She laid a good sized clutch of eggs which were the result of Saphira's and Firnen's mating fight. They were proud as could be. All of their children were released as wild dragons to help rebuild their race.

In all the rushing about to become established in this new land, a name for the place didn't even cross their minds. That was rectified at last, at the end of the fifth year, with the name Landeous Nebus, which, strictly speaking, was not a part of any known language – that way no one culture would have the honors.

Murtagh won Nasuada's heart, over time. He caused his body to age as she did, and planned on living a long, full life at her side, then reshape his body and move on once she had passed. A good plan.

One community, separate parts. That is how Landeous Nebus stood. That's how the world stood. They got a long. That was about to change. For good or bad? You will have to judge.

This new order is about to mutate into a many headed beast. It all started with the star of this book, Tor. He is now eleven years old.

Section 2 The Winds of Change Chapter 10

Tor is now eleven. A young rascal, as curious as ten children his age, and a darling. But, he could be difficult - better known as misunderstood.

"Tor refuses to use the ancient language," complained Eragon, as he and Arya sat in their treeish house one evening.

Tor was sitting at the table reading a scroll about the consolations. "I read it just fine," retorted Tor.

"And he asks 'why' at every turn," continued Eragon as if Tor wasn't there. "Like 'why must we use that language?' "

Tor put his scroll down and looked up, "I don't need to speak words to cast magic spells. Can you do that?"

"Yes," replied Eragon more calmly, "but that is a secret."

"Why?"

"Not again. I swear 'Why' must have been the first word you learned."

"The first word was barzûl. Why don't the elves have such marvelous words? The Urgals have them and the humans too."

Arya said, "It's not a proper way to talk."

Eragon smiled. "I heard you use that one once, maybe twice."

"Not in front of Tor." She sounded stern, with a slight smile trying to creep onto her face.

"You talking behind my back again?" wailed Tor. "Wait until I'm not here if you're going to do that. OK?"

"Tor!" exclaim both Eragon and Arya.

Arya then reprimanded Tor more gently, saying, "Will you not learn respect? That is why we don't speak those words - respect."

Tor shrugged his shoulders and left the house.

Arya and Eragon looked at each other with worried expressions. Then they both said it at the same time, "He is just like you." Then they started to laugh together, then kiss and then they tuned off the light.

Tor was set the task of learning more about magic, since it was obvious that he was going to do magic anyway. Eragon asked a young Eldunari named Diskori to do the honors. Tor and Diskori were sitting down the hill by a small rivulet one bright morning working on Tor's lessons. Diskori was a young dragon at the time of the last battle on Vroengard. His Rider was a hotheaded youth who thought he could take on the world because he could lift a stone off the ground with magic. They both died early in the battle. There were quite a few such as Diskori – body dead and mind transferred to their Eldunari way too early to have accumulated much wisdom, then in suspension for a hundred years waiting for Galbatorix to be defeated. They were a good match, Tor and Diskori. As long as they stayed out of trouble. The elvish word, Eldunari, was hard for Tor to say properly. He called them d'Hearts instead.

This fine morning, Tor was trying to lift a stone into the air with magic. Doing things on purpose with a spell was difficult for Tor. Using his mind without thought made things happen. The lesson was to use words to cast spells, elvish words, which Tor didn't know nearly as well as human talk, or even the Urgal tongue. The dwarfs spent most of their time deep in their tunnels. The dark down there scared Tor. He liked the sunlight best of all. He still knew more dwarvish than elven.

 _One more_ _time. Give it another try, Tor. Say, 'Stenr rïsa,'_ encouraged Diskori.

Tor looked at the small roundish pebble in his hand, his right palm where someday a silver spot would shine if he could manage to bond with a dragon. He imagined the sliver spot giving off a bright light and the pebble shooting up past the moon. Then it happened just like he saw it: the pebble was gone, less than a speck in the blue sky.

 _With the words,_ reminded Diskori. _With the words. Use the elven words._ The Eldunari was clearly frustrated.

 _Why?_

 _Because you're an elf._

 _And human,_ reminded Tor.

 _Try it again, if you please._

 _Some teacher you are, anyway, Diskori. You can't even do what you're asking me to do, can you? Show me how it's done, Diskori. Say,_ ' _Stenr rïsa,' and raise the pebble._ Tor looked stubborn. He would be sorry for his rudeness later.

 _I can't. I'm a dragon and our race doesn't use words to do magic._ Diskori was clearly miffed at this point.

 _Then I wish I was a dragon so I could do magic the way that comes natural to me._ Tor suddenly looked transformed, lit up. _Like flying. I'd love to fly like I see the dragons do._ He looked cross again. ' _Stenr rïsa,' and the pebble flipped over once._

 _That's better. Try it again._

Tor groaned. _This is going to be a long morning,_ he said to himself. Tor stubbornly repeated, _You show me how, my friend d'Heart Diskori._

 _I've told you, it's not something we can control!_

 _Why?_

 _Don't say that word! It drives me mad._

 _Then_ _go mad, maybe then you can cast spells if you got mad enough._ Tor walked away.

Diskori thought about Tor's questions all morning. And waited for someone to notice that Tor had left him out on the rivulet bank … again. _Glaedr_ , asked Diskori at last, _Why can't we dragons do magic like the stand-on-two-legs?_

 _You bother me with such a question? You are no better than your young student. Somethings just_ are _and this is one of them. We are magical but have no verbal control. Language came to us as a gift from the bond we made with the elves._

 _Tor is right. That is not a good reason. I am teaching Tor -_

 _Use his correct name._

 _Yes master. I am teaching Torsein how to raise a rock into the air and I can't show him how by doing it._

Glaedr couldn't even find words for his frustration. And like a storm passing out of sight over the sea, Glaedr's consciousness darkened and moved into other pursuits.

Tor was, meanwhile, working on the task alone at the back of the cave, near the dark so he would be afraid and more alert. He got his pebble to rise using the proper elvish words but didn't know how he did it. It floated in the air a foot above his hand.

Diskori had noticed and prodded Tor, _You did it. Now come and teach me how._

That began an adventure - the two of them trying to do magic.

The next morning, Tor explained, _I do magic by finding my power. It's a special feeling that rest deep inside me. I bet you have one of those magic spots, like a button. Look, I can do magic now with words - any words, not just elven. Try it. I did it, it's your turn._

 _Now you're teaching me. Shouldn't I use elven, the ancient language?_

 _Are you an elf?_

 _I'm not even going to answer that._

 _Look for your spot, d'heart. … This might help. It's an emotion, like fear or love. It doesn't seem to matter if it's a dark emotion or full of light._

Diskori focused on what Tor was explaining. _An emotion,_ he repeated. _How can raising this rock be an emotion? OK, focus. I feel euphoric that Tor's rock is flying off his hand, up and up. I see it moving. I_ … the pebble flipped over. _Did you do that?_ asked Diskori.

 _Not me. Do it again. Send it to the moon._

Diskori sensed the pebble sitting there still as can be. Not moving. _Wait! That's what it's doing not what I want it to do. What if I say, 'Rock, you are moving up. I see you shooting off into space, I'_ … whoosh! The pebble shot away, out of sight.

 _Yipee! d'Heart Diskori, you did it! Again, do it again!_

Glaedr noticed the emotional spike and checked in. _What's going on?_

 _I caught a fish,_ Tor lied.

 _Back to your lesson, youngling!_

Over time, Tor and Diskori improved their control over magic, both with words and without. They kept Diskori's abilities to cast spells a secret, they didn't know why. It didn't seem to matter what language was used. Diskori liked the dwarfish language best, it had such a biting sound, really got your hackles up to use it.

Chapter 11

In Nasuada's court, there lay two more eggs destined for human bonding. One of the eggs hatched but the dragon flew up and out of reach and wouldn't come down. Yet it couldn't escape because it was indoors. Murtagh was off managing a reluctant magician for Nasuada at the time. Trianna was called for and she talked to the dragon, mind to mind. She got images of living in the wild. There was a spell on all the eggs set aside for bonding with Riders. The first person to touch the dragon would bond with it. This dragon seemed to want no Rider, only freedom.

It was decided that Eragon and the Eldunari would have to decide what to do to help the dragon. Word of this mishap flew through the district, attracting the wrong kinds. Some people thought that if they could just touch the dragon first, they would become instantly rich and all powerful. Not too far off. The door to the dragon's room was broken open and people rushed in to catch it. The dragon escaped down the hall and hid behind a curtain.

Murtagh came back at last. He cast a spell of finding and walked up to the curtain with some food. It was famished. "Don't touch me," warned Murtagh. He tossed the food on the floor, and the baby dragon pounced on it.

"How can we help you? I can remove the spell that will bind you to a Rider. Is that what you want?"

 _Yes._ The baby dragon looked hopeful.

"I need to talk this over with the Eldunari and Eragon, then I'll be back to set you free. Stay here, OK?"

 _Yes._

Murtagh set wards of protection over the corridor and told the dragon, "Don't leave this curtain and you shall be safe."

 _Yes._

Murtagh walked away, and the dragon flew back up to the curtain to hide. A man slipped out of a side door, he had been listening. He had also been searching for the dragon with a strong box to carry it off in. Suspecting a ward to keep him away from the dragon, he began to whistle like a bird. The dragon became curious and peeked out to see. The man ducked into a room and left the door slightly ajar. He whistled like a bird again. The dragon took the bait and flew towards the door. Suddenly, a woman sorceress dashed down the hall with outstretched hands. The dragon screeched and flew down another hall where more people were lounging about. Many people ran at the dragon, scaring it out of it's wits.

To escape, the baby dragon flew down a narrow stairway into a kitchen, running straight into a large cat, tumbling head over heels and landing with the cat on its back and the dragon sitting smugly on the cat's belly. The cat's name was Maude. She took a playful swipe at the dragon, and …

Her paw suddenly became cold as ice, then dumb, as the paralyzing cold traveled up her arm. It felt as if her blood had turned to fire or molten rock. Maude's mind tumbled through space, the clanging of a bell ringing in her ears and pain driving itself into every fiber of her body. Her fur stood on end and she became rigid like a board. She couldn't move. Slowly, she sank onto the floor, limp as a rag, unwound. The paw she had swatted the dragon with was numb and lifeless. Much later, though how long it was hard for her to judge, Maude began to feel a warmth and tingling in her body, and she sat up. Her paw began to itch something terrible. She looked at it and, to her dismay, the middle of her paw shimmered and formed a diffused white oval.

Then she heard a voice float into her head. _Rats! And I so wanted to be free. Bonded with a cat too. I'll be the laughing stock of all my kind._

Angela was there, kneeling my Maude's side. So was Solembum, who was a kin to Maude. The kitchen seemed like a safe place to meet. The dragon was sitting on the counter, perched atop a box of oats.

Angela was shocked. "Maude! I think you just became a Dragon Rider." Then she laughed at the absurdity of the paring - doubled over and shaking from head to toe. "Oh, this will set Eragon a spinning," she wailed. "A cat with the silver palm of a Dragon Rider."

Maude and Carol (the name our little dragon choose to be called) sat facing each other.

 _I love you_ , said Maude.

 _I love you,_ said Carol.

 _You're almost big enough to ride,_ commented Maude.

 _Well, that took all of a week. What will you do when I'm as big as a mountain?_

 _Sleep in your left nostril._

 _I'm serious._

 _I'm Maude. Werecats never worry. If it will make you feel better, stop growing._

 _You know I can't do that. I eat too much. I'm hungry all the time._ Carol tapped the floor with a talon while saying, _Snickity-whickity._ Immediately, a mouse scurried out of a hole in the wall and ran up to Carol, who licked it up with flashing razor-sharp teeth, and swallowed, running her tongue over her lips. _Ah, I love mice. Wish I could cast a spell so I would stay_ _small. That way, I'd never have to move on to eating deer or whatnot. But, as you know, dragons can't do magic, not on purpose. What are you staring at, Maude? Stop that! Your eyes turn the most ghastly shade of green when you do that._

 _Carol … I think you are looking but not seeing. What did you just do?_

 _Eat a mouse. That was obvious._

 _Eat a mouse. And the mouse just happen to be wandering across this floor and not notice a giant mouse-eating dragon sitting there?_

 _Oh that. I've always been able to tell mice to come out to play._ Maude began to grin. _That isn't magic, Maude._

 _What is it then?_

 _Well, it's … it's … what are you getting at?_

 _You are a dragon, my lovely dragon, and you can cast a spell using magic, just as well as any other magical creature. What other spells can you cast?_

 _None. That isn't even the ancient language. I made it up._

 _Do it again._

 _Do what again? Make up a spell?_

 _Yes._

Carol sat in thought for a minute. This was hard work. Her eyes went crossed and a bit of smoke rose out of her ears. Then her eyes brightened and she grinned, showing all her lovely white teeth. _Maude, you still pining over wanting to sit on the chair next to Nasuada's throne?_

 _You know I am. But One Paw is sitting there and he says that he'll be on that chair a long time, so stop asking. Why?_

 _Watch._ Carol tapped the floor with her talon as before while saying, _Whackity, smackity._

The door began to open and Carol whisked out of sight. Nasuada stepped in and smiled. "There you are Maude. Ive been looking for you for a while. I need you to fill in for One Paw. He's laid up at the moment."

 _I'm right behind you. What happened?_ Nasuada left the room with Maude following, then she jumped up into Nasuada's arms and began to purr.

"One Paw saw a beautiful bird hovering just outside the window of the throne room this morning and made a foolish leap for it, missed, hit his head on the windowsill and fell. Poor thing. He's in the healer's ward with Angela and Solumbum right now getting bandaged up."

 _I'm so sorry,_ said Maude, but purred all the louder. _Carol? It worked. You can now cast two spells._

 _It appears that way. I'm staying out of sight until you get off that silly chair._

 _There's a slight problem. Do you see it? You cast the spell to let me sit on the chair next to Nasuada's Throne and Nasuada walks in looking for me. One Paw fell out the window hours ago, but the spell that caused it was just cast. You used magic that went back in time._

 _I don't see that as a problem. Since it happened, it must be OK. Perhaps this has always been possible but no one tried it before. Perhaps … all magic is timeless. Hey! I could write a book!_

 _You can't spell._

 _I can too._

 _Spell Carol._

 _You have a point._

Nasuada looked slightly troubled as she rounded a corner and opened the door of the Throne Room. "Who were you talking to just now?"

 _Me? Oh, that was Solumbum. I wanted to check on One Paw._

"Hmmm."

The Seed of doubt is hard to dig up once planted. Nasuada didn't know that Carol was in the castle. She was told that the young dragon had escaped out a window and flew east. Now the idea came to her that Maude knew something about this.

 _Who was Maude really talking to?_ mused Nasuada.

And, Maude couldn't help but wonder if Carol's bonding with a werecat was the cause of this magical kink in her abilities.

Chapter 12

A seed was planted in a pot for starting, and the pot was placed in a greenhouse for warmth and protection. Time passed and the seed grew into a healthy plant, but the pot was getting too small. The plant needed new ground, new nutrients, in order to flourish. Tor was this seed. There was so much potential there, unobserved, even by his parents.

Tor is now eighteen. He was attracted to the dragon eggs, the ones which hadn't hatched yet. One small egg stood out in his mind above the others. The dragon's name was Fordni. Tor would visit it every day, pat it, talk to it. Tor would take the egg on walks through the forest and show it images of what he was seeing.

 _I think I'm dead,_ admitted Fordni, one day. _I can't feel my body._

 _You're not dead or I wouldn't be talking to you. Unless … you aren't a dragon soul come back from the dead, are you?_

 _I haven't gone anywhere! What are you saying?_

 _You were set aside to be bonded with one of us walk-on-two-legs. That means …_

 _Yes, I know, you've told me. When I crack open my shell, the first person I touch will become my life partner. The problem is, I don't have a body so I will never get this shell off me. And what if the one I bond with is a real toad-head? Or what if he or she doesn't like me at all after the bonding._

 _Don't say that. I love you!_

 _Do you want to be my person then? I know you, I trust you. Touch me, please._

 _I … should I?_ This idea startled Tor. He sat and thought about it a full minute before saying, _The old adults would say no, that you are stuck there. But … I have learned that just because a thing isn't done, that's no reason not to do it._

 _Touch me._

Tor had one last moment of hesitation, then he said with resolution, _I will._ Reaching for that magic deep within, he said, _shell open_ _and release my friend._ A loud crack filled the air, the shell split in two and there Tor found a lot of slime, the remains of the small dragon body. Then he saw something else, his breath quickened. A small orb of light shone through the slime. He pushed the dead dragon goo aside and prodded the orb.

Tor felt an agony like he had never felt in all his short life. His right hand, then his arm went numb, then his whole body shook. Spasms of pain shot up and down his limbs. He went blind. A metallic taste filled his mouth. Tor struggled to move but found that his body was stiff and hard like a rock. He fell back onto the ground. His head hurt and then his hand, the one he had touch the dragon Eldunari with, began to itch. He tried to scream but couldn't make a sound. After some time, he was able to sit up. He looked at his right palm and a silver oval was just forming there. His attention was riveted to the spot as it grew and grew. A minute later, everything went back to normal.

At first, Tor was frightened beyond his darkest expectation. He got off the ground and shook himself then took a few deep breaths. Then, like a light shining through the night fog, a voice, came to him, _Tor, you did it! You saved me. I love you. Pick me up. Get me away from my old prison._

Tor snapped out of his mood and took action. He placed Fordni in his palm, his silver palm, and poured water from a canteen over the young Eldunari until it was sparkling clean. It was about the size of a walnut.

 _Now what?_ asked Tor.

 _Your pocket will do._

 _Can you see anything?_

 _Only what you show me, as always._

 _Wait. What about the link the Dragon Riders are suppose to have with their dragons? Reach out to me and become part of my body, see with my eyes. Father and Saphira told me about this happening to them long ago. I believed them. It was real. This can be real for us. Let this be real! Come into my body and feel the wind I am feeling, see the clear blue sky I am seeing!_

 _I am trying! I am reaching. It is a long ways between you and me. Help me._

 _Help you?_ questioned Tor. So, he cast a spell – his solution to everything. _Join with me, body to body, mind to mind, that we can see together, and see clearer. Flow to me, flow through me, be me!_ Then Tor, feeling compelled by the spell, tore open his tunic, looked at the d'Heart resting in his silver hand, for the last time, and pressed it firmly against his chest then willed it to pass into his body. A light filled his chest. Bliss filled his head. Tor lifted his hand and saw no wound. The place that had opened to receive the Eldunari was completely healed.

 _Can you see now?_ Tor asked.

 _You know the answer. We are together as one. The trees and lake far below are more beautiful than I ever imagined in my darkened mind seeing only your thoughts of what is real. Thank you. Has this been done before?_

 _Nope. I have a habit of being the first at doing things. I think we will keep this our little secret. OK?_

 _OK._

Tor said, _We're going to need training that will be hard to get here. How do you feel about living in Ellesméra and learning magic from the elves?_

 _Good plan._

"Father, Mother?" Tor was standing before Eragon and Arya in the cave common room. They looked up. Tor was standing erect, chin high. He had used the ancient language to address them, which was highly unusual.

"Yes,Tor?" prodded Eragon, also in elven.

Still in the ancient language, Tor made his request, "I wish to live in Ellesméra and continue my study of the ancient language and the ways of magic. And … my name is Torsein."

Arya and Eragon were surprised - and pleased. Arya was the first to recover, and asked, "Why not study here? … Torsein."

"I wish to better understand their culture, my culture."

Eragon and Arya looked at each other for a moment, then Eragon said, "Yes, my son. Go in peace. Learn all that you can."

"Come and visit me if you wish. I'd like that, but not too often. And Father, you won't die if you come back to Alagaësia once in a while … if you try hard to stay out of trouble."

Eragon grinned. "I know. Oromis told me something like that a long time ago. I just needed to do this, to be separate for a while."

"Then you know how I am feeling," said Torsein.

"Yes. I'll come … occasionally, with Arya. I miss the pinewood city of the elves."

Arya said, "I'll contact the elders at once and inform them of the arrival of a new student. They will be thrilled. You will behave, won't you?"

"To the best of my ability."

"That was what I was afraid of," replied Eragon. But all three of them were grinning. Then the fact that their little family was soon to be parted overcame them and Torsein rushed into their open arms - tears flowed freely. Conversation was impossible for quite a while. At last they released each other, and Torsein backed off, ready to leave and prepare for his departure.

'What is in your chest?" asked Arya.

"My heart," said Torsein. "What else would there be?" He smiled with a nod and was gone.

"Little imp," said Eragon, wiping his eyes.

"Just like you," teased Arya.

"We won't recognize him when he returns."

"I know."

Chapter 13

Torsein arrived with Arya in the early morning on the back of Firnen. The mist was floating close to the ground. Ellesméra had lost none of its charm over the years. The homes grown out of the pines could barely be detected. The elves they met were both jolly and solemn, and always polite.

"You'll like it here," said Arya. The air fairly crackled with magic.

"Where will I stay?" asked Torsein.

"King Däthedr will see to that. I'm taking you to him now. This way, my son."

Arya guided him down a well worn path to a grove of trees that closely resembled a large room. King Däthedr was sitting on his throne talking to a group of elves from Kurtan. Arya and Torsein waited politely until they had finished. Only then did King Däthedr seem to notice them.

Arya offered the usual greetings, going first to show her respect for the king. They talked so rapidly that Torsein had trouble understanding all the words. At last the King looked at Torsein and spoke directly to him, in a clearer tone.

"Welcome, Torsein, son of Eragon and Arya. At last we meet. Corsida, here," he motioned to a lady sitting at the side of the room, "will show you your quarters and answer any question you may have. We have yet to choose a teacher for you. I thought it best to allow you some time to get to know our city, and, perhaps you will find a teacher that is to your liking and ours." He smiled, but not in a friendly way.

Torsein thought, _I hope I don't have much to do with this one._ Then they were dismissed and Corsida walked up and held out her hand.

"He doesn't waste time," commented Torsein. Arya only smiled.

Corsida was a nice enough elf, and Torsein was fairly certain that they would get along. He was used to the village where all the races of Alagaësia mixed and cooperated. Here, he decided, the elvish costumes prevailed, making everything seem cultivated, lacking freedom.

 _I'll find my way in this city._ Thought Tor. _There has to be some who are real and not hiding behind this_ _elvish mask._

Arya took both his hands in hers, looking him in the eyes, and said, "I love you. Be good, and learn all you can. I would like to stay for a while but I think I won't. You would like the freedom to explore without me looking over your shoulder, I'll bet." Torsein grinned. "And Eragon will want to hear how everything went. Ignore old sour face Däthedr, and don't repeat that. He has always been … difficult."

"Thank you," is all Torsein said. They hugged briefly and she departed.

"This way, young Rider," said Corsida.

"I'm not a Rider," replied Torsein as he gently closed his right hand to hide his silver palm.

"As you wish."

Torsein didn't know how to answer, so he kept quiet and followed Corsida. A small hut next to a stream was shown him and he placed his pack on the bed.

"Meals are served in Tialdarí Hall, where you met King Däthedr. Feel free to wander and ask questions. We have found that to be the fasted way for a new student to learn, in the beginning." She smiled and turned away towards Tialdarí Hall.

 _Free!_ thought Torsein. _What do you think of all this, d'Heart Fordni?_

 _Glorious fun lay ahead of us. How did_ _Corsida know you were a Dragon Rider?_ Fordni sounded slightly worried.

 _My palm, I suppose. Maybe I didn't keep it out of sight as well as I thought. Or maybe everyone knows and_ _are too damn polite to say so._

 _Come on, let's explore,_ prodded Fordni. So that is what they did. The food was fine. The hut he was staying in was cozy and perfect in every way. A man named Sloan lived in a hut just down the creek from him. He was human, that was obvious, but had learned to speak elvish to a degree. They didn't talk much. That was fine with Torsein because the man seemed sad about something and Torsien didn't feel like being sad with him.

The most outrageous old woman, ( _No one in this place looks_ _old, have you noticed,_ _Fordni? Except her_ , commented Torsien) stepped out of a small atrium one day, blocking his way, and asked, "Who are you? Or should I ask, what are you?"

Torstein bowed and tried to remember how to greet an elf properly, but failed half way through it and simply held out his hand in the human fashion.

'Ha, ha, ho, hummm." Her belly shook and her eyes sparkled. "You had lunch yet? Come sit with me and tell me all about yourself."

"I'd love to. What's your name?"

"Rhunön," she replied. At that moment they walked past her forge and she let out a yelp, and quickly pulled a piece of metal off the anvil and placed it in the forge. "Barzûl!" she wailed. "I left it out of the fire! Distracted I was by your footfalls." Rhunön looked critically at Torstein a moment then said, "I hope you're worth it." He sat on a bench and Rhunön returned with two plates of food. "Show me you right hand."

 _Now what?_ thought Torsein. He extended his hand and she tuned it palm upward.

"Where's your dragon?"

Torsien only had a moment to decide, then he replied in elvish, the ancient language where you cannot tell a falsehood, "He is dead." Torsein tried to look sad.

"Thardsvergûndnzmal, that you are. How many days have you been here? and you're already learning to be a sly elf."

"You speak the language of the knurla," said Torsien, surprised.

"So do you, it seems."

"Better than the elvish language." Torsein had switched to Dwarvish. "It's easier to lie in knarlan and their words have such a bit. Doing magic in knarlan gets better results, for me, that is." He covered his mouth, knowing that he had said too much.

Rhunön only smiled. "I'm liking you more by the minute. Raise that anvil with magic, in knurlan." She raised her eyebrows in expectation. It was easy. He had done so much more; he had linked with an Eldunari. He spoke in dwarvish, saying, "Rise," and the anvil lifted off the bench a foot or so.

"That was good, but I suspected you can do a lot more and I'll guess that no one knows about this?"

Torsein grinned and nodded. "You have me pegged," he said in dwarvish. In fact they both spoke dwarvish from then on that day, as an unspoken agreement.

"So tell me," asked Rhunön, and she looked stern this time, "And don't try to lie. Where is your dragon?" She waited in silence.

 _Can we trust her?_ Torsein asked Fordni.

 _Do we have a choice?_

Torstein simply pointed at his chest and said, "Here."

Rhunön looked utterly surprised and also pleased. "I apologize, young Rider, for asking you to lift my anvil. What can you do with magic?"

"Anything, in any language or no language."

"Did joining with this Eldunari give you this ability?"

"No. I've always been very magical. I found it nearly impossible to limit my magic by words when I was younger. It was a hard lesson; that's partly why I am here. I wish to improve my elvish and learn about my culture."

"Your culture? You're not an elf, maybe part elf. Who are your parents?"

 _Here it comes the part I've tried to avoid,_ thought Torsein. _My parents are famous and all that ... blah, blah, blah._

 _Go ahead,_ encouraged Fordni

"My parents are Eragon and Arya. My name is Torsein."

"That explains!" Rhunön rolled with laughter. "You've got magic in your veins without the Eldunari lodging in your chest. You going to introduce me to your dragon?"

 _Now it's your turn,_ prodded Torsein.

 _Fordni is my name, old one,_ he said. _I am one of the eggs that was set aside to be bonded with a Rider, but I died in my shell. I placed my consciousness in my Eldunardi quite by accident, so I lived on, but trapped in my shell. Torsein and I became acquainted. He opened my shell and bonded with me, then he cast a spell and I was pushed into his chest. I see you. I hear and smell everything that Torsein does._

"Hmmm." Rhunön sat in silence for a moment. "Do you realize that you two are about to merge. Soon there will be just one voice and one mind."

"We know," _we know,_ they both said.

"You OK with this?" she asked.

"More than OK," said Torsein.

"Hmmm. I've decided. I'll do it. I won't make a Rider's sword for you; that thought probably occurred to you. But I'll do better than that. I'll teach you."

"You? Teach us? That would be wonderful!"

"And I'll tell you right here that I haven't taken any lengthy break from my forge and anvil for several hundred years."

"Yes, Rhunön." They were elated.

"Come back in the morning. I have some cleaning up to do if my forge is to be out of use for a while." With that, she turned and walked away.

Chapter 14

In the morning, Torsein walked into Rhunön's atrium. Little did he know that this part of Ellesméra had not been silent for as long as any there could recall. She sat on her bench, apparently enjoying the bright sunshine and clear air. His feet made a slight shuffling sound and she looked up, then grinned.

"First things first," she said in elvish. "You came here to improve your elvish and so that is the only language we will speak until you become fluent. Agreed?"

"Agreed," _Agreed_ , answered Torsein and Fordni together.

"Would you like to tell your parents about your dragon, Torsein?"

"Not really."

"Would you like to at least check in with them or see them?

"Oh yes. I would like that very much. But … I don't have a mirror. Do you have one?"

"A what? They have become lazy there in your village, I see. I will begin your lessons by teaching you how to scry, then how to add your voices to that. Go in the hut and get a bowl of water." Torsein got up and approached the hut. "That's a good boy."

Soon, the bowl of water rested between them on the table. Rhunön muttered some elvish over the bowl and the water went dark, then an image of the inside of her hut appeared.

"You get the idea? Now you try it. Replace the words, 'inside my hut' with 'my hut'. Go ahead."

Torstein said the words and the water darkened as before, then an image of his hut appeared in the water. Sloan walked by and passed out of view. Torstein altered the words to say follow Sloan, and the picture in the water followed Sloan a long the path to his hut.

"Good innovation!"

"I have some questions."

"If you didn't, I wouldn't waste my time with you. Go ahead."

"Why … ( _Here I go,_ thought Torsein) do you have to use water in a bowl or a mirror? Why does it take so long to work?"

"How would you like the spell to work? Change it and give it a try."

Torsein thought about it a moment then drew a circle in the air, like a window, with a finger and muttered the words, in dwarvish. Something like a window appeared in the air with a view of Sloan's hut with him sitting in front whittling on a branch of wood.

"Very good!" squealed Rhunön with delight.

"Now, I'll do that in elvish." Which he did, but this time called forth Tialdarí Hall, and they saw King Däthedr sitting on his throne.

"You'll want to be able to talk to the people you are viewing at times," said Rhunön. "These are the words that alter the scrying spell so you can talk and hear as well." Then she told Tor the words to use, which Tor repeated and, instantly, they could see and hear what was being said in Tialdarí Hall. Tor ended the spell and the window in the air closed.

"Keep going. You only answered one of your questions. Tell me why there is a delay before the image shows up. Can you solve this problem?"

Torsein thought for a moment, then replied, "I don't think this spell needs to take time to work. The speed might be shortened by adding the word, 'Now.' "

"Maybe."

Torsein added the word, "Now," when casting the spell and his scrying window opened up instantly to show Tialdarí Hall. He had also thought or intended it to open instantly.

"You have altered this spell in three ways that I've never even seen an elf try before. And it came very easy for you. I want you to experiment on your own with scrying. For the rest of the morning, we will learn words in the ancient language, in elvish. Don't grimace."

Learning the words was hard, but he had already nearly mastered three other languages. He learned rapidly. In the afternoon, Torsein wandered to the edge of Ellesméra and beyond. _I wish to practice magic without being observed,_ he told himself. At length, he came upon a cliff and sat there looking out over the forest far below. The sun was setting, displaying an array of violet, pink and orange streaming across the western horizon.

He got up and instead of returning to the city, he followed the cliff's edge until he came to a hut. It was unoccupied, he decided. He lay on the bed. It was comfortable. Scrolls occupied many cubbyholes which covered two walls. Torsein could read elvish a lot better than he could speak it. So, he called forth a light with magic, picked up a scroll and began reading. It was midnight before he tore himself away from the scroll and went to sleep.

 _I like it when you read,_ said Fordni. _Soon, I will decide what_ _to read and pick up a scroll. We will do it together._

 _Come, my friend, drift into my dreams as I sleep._

The next day, he ate breakfast at Rhunön's hut as he told her about the hut by the cliff and the scrolls. "Am I breaking some rule by staying there?"

"None. The last person who lived there was your Mother - and before her, Oromis."

"Oh! I know him. The lake below the village was named after him. Then the scrolls are his? Were his?"

"That is correct. What was the scroll about that peeked your interest so keenly?"

'It was a history of Alagaësia. It made me want to visit all those places. Can I scry Nasuada's court, or the sea by Teirm?"

"Only if you've been there first. Maybe you will find a way, my young Rider. The Riders of old would visit as many places as they could so they would be able to scry them if they needed to see that place, or talk to a person. They were constantly introducing themselves to those they met in their travels."

"That would take years. … What if I shared a memory, like a mental link, with someone who has been to a place that I want to see. Then could I scry that place?"

"Are you willing to allow our mind's to link?"

"Yes."

"Then I will share a view I recall of the sea by Teirm."

Rhunön merged her mind with Torsein and Fordni. A scene appeared in their minds of the great sea rolling into the shore. Then they saw Teirm with it's harbor full of ships, and its tall stone walls built to keep pirates out. Rhunön withdrew her mind and Torsein immediately stepped back to give himself room. He drew a large circle in the air, nearly as big as himself, and cast the spell. A view of Teirm appeared in his circle.

Torsein sat down and looked through the scrying window as if he was there, looking out at the sea from a cottage window. Rhunön whistled. "You catch on quickly."

"Show me every place you've ever been ... please."

"I've lived hundreds of years," she replied.

"Then most of them. Consider it my training, so I can someday ..." He didn't finish his thought.

And so his training that day, and far into the night, was to visit the many, many places that Rhunön had visited in her long life. And she introduced him to the memories of many people as well. In one scene, a young, sassy girl peeked out from behind a door.

"I know her!" exclaimed Torsein. "I've seen her in Father's mirror. She still looks just as young as she did then."

"That memory was 400 years old and she was quite old at the time. Where did you see her?"

"In Queen Nasuada's court."

"So that's were she's been. In the thick of things, as usual."

As the moon rose up above the hills, Torsein finally said goodbye and went to his hut by the creek. His training went on like this for a number of weeks. He learned the elvish language quickly. And any kind of magic was easy to perform, in any language or none. He excelled at scrying using his scrying windows, as he called them.

Torsein constantly felt Fordni's mind bumping into his during this time. Frequently he felt his body responding to the Eldunari's commands, and not his own. His thoughts and those of the Eldunari were becoming linked in ways that neither had experienced before, then one day this all disappeared. After this he could see farther and think with a clarity that he never thought possible. He also had a lot more energy, or a different kind of energy. And, most of all, he felt a magic coursing through his veins that was not there before.

Torsein talked to Rhunön about this and she nodded. "I told you this would happen. You and your Eldunari have merged into one person. You are every bit part dragon as you are part elf and human. What say you, young Rider?"

"I want to fly." He said it before he gave it much thought.

"Then tomorrow's lesson will be how to sing, and for along time after that. This is how we älfa create our homes out of living trees. This is how I gave strength to the Rider's swords. Now I am going to create my greatest work of art, except you are going to do it. I will teach you how to sing and you will do it with your marvelous magic."

"Do what?"

"Become a dragon."

Chapter 15

For the next three days Torsein was to take a break from his lessons. Torsein decided to stayed at the hut overlooking the cliff, which he learned was called the Crags of Tel'naeír in the elven tongue. He knew Glaedr quite well and found it queer to be sitting where that old dragon mind had spent so many years of his life, before he had lost his body.

At first, he just sat and thought about his short life so far. _I have not even loved yet and here I am thinking of becoming something alien to my_ _own being._

 _Not so alien to the dragon part of us,_ a voice rising from deep within reminded him.

"So be it," he spoke out loud – to the air beyond the cliff. _Beyond the cliff! I will someday be able to fly!_ He was elated. The day he could fly seemed to loom ever closer to his current life.

Torsein got up and went into the hut. The morning sun was slanting into his clearing before the cliff and he wanted a darkened room so he could see clearly into another place. Torsein drew a circle in the air before him, without speaking a word, and a room in the cave back home came into view. There in the dark shone the many Eldunari that were kept there. Diskori was among them. He focused his scrying window so that it was closer to Diskori. He seems so real looking at him like this, almost real enough to touch.

 _I wonder,_ he thought. He choose a few words he thought promising, then spoke them, imbuing them with magic. He carefully reached out toward the scrying window and envisioned his hand passing through it to the cave room. His fingertips touched the window, then like breaking through a soap-bubble, his hand was in the cave room. He pulled it back and waited.

 _That seemed to work,but I bet I can do better._ He envisioned the window being open this time and his hand passed through without resistance. Next, Torsein reached over and placed his hand on Diskori.

 _Diskori?_ prodded Torsein with a soft voice.

 _Tor?_

 _Yes. ... I miss you._

 _You could have said goodbye._

 _I was caught in a whirlwind with destiny. You bored? Don't answer that. I know you are. How's your magic?_

 _Fine. Hey! How are you doing this? Are we thinking through a scrying window? That can't be done. How are you doing this?_

 _I'm touching you through a scrying window. Our limitations are just that – self imposed. So, are you ready for an adventure? Do you want to come where I am?_

 _Yes! But how?_

 _I don't know._ Silence followed. Torsein wondered what would happen if he picked Diskori up with his hands. He reached in with his other hand and gently lifted him out of his box, then through the scrying window. The window went dark and laying in his lap was Diskori, glowing and giving off glad feelings.

 _That's never been done before, I'll bet,_ said Diskori.

 _I like being first - or at least unusual. That is why I wanted you to be a part of what's going on here. I am learning tons of new stuff. I even speak elven fairly good now. See?_ and Torsein said out loud, "Osthato Chetowä." _That's the name of the elf who used to live in this hut. You know him as Oromis. I've been reading a lot too._

 _What next?_

 _Let's see how this new scrying spell works, put it through the wringer, so to speak._

Tor opened a scrying window into his hut back in Ellesméra. Envisioned it as an open window and reached through as before. He picked up a book he wished he had brought with him and pulled it through the window. _That was easy._ Then he opened a window to Rhunön's hut. Torsein could see her sitting there by a small fire, warming her hands, though it was spring and not cold. He reached through the scrying window and pulled on her hair, just a little tug, then withdrew his hand. She spun around and stared right at Torsein's window without seeing it. Then he stuck his head through, just his head, and smiled. "Did you miss me?"

Rhunön screamed, and Torsein pulled his head back out of her hut. "Torsein! What have you done now?"

He altered the spell so that a two-way scrying window was created – more of a standard configuration. "I found a new spell."

"That's obvious."

"I can reach through my scrying window and touch things. I'm not entirely sure how it works, just that I can do it if I think I can."

"This was worth losing a month's work at the forge. You are a marvel. Now think! What else can you do with this? And no, I've never heard of this being done before, so don't ask."

"I opened a window into my cave back home and picked up one of the Eldunari, a friend of mine named Diskori, and ..."

"You what?! You stole an Eldunari? Just like that?"

"All I did was to reach through my window and pick him up. Oh! What would happen if ... Wait a moment so I can readjust my thinking."

"What! What! Don't just moan on and on without doing. Do it!"

And he did. Torsein closed the window they were talking through, opened a new one, big enough for him to walk through, picked up Diskori and ... he walked through – right into Rhunön's hut.

"You said to do it." He smiled. "Meet Diskori. He can do magic spells, by the way. He's not just a talking rock."

"And I suppose you taught him how?"

"We worked on it together, me and Diskori. We go back a long ways."

"I don't suppose you're planning on staying home for the next two days until our new magical project begins?"

"Not on your life. Will you watch Diskori? He's our ticket to tapping into the many Eldunari that live in our cave back home, and the mad ones too, especially them. They don't know what they're doing - not much. They're better than they were at the end of the Great War."

With that, Torsein drew a circle in the air, stepped through it and winked out of sight. Rhunön was left standing there, holding Diskori, her mouth gapping open, like a fish out of water.

"He'll be back. He'd better be back," she kept saying.

Torsein went to Teirm first to see the sea in person. It was just as he had seen it through the scrying window – swelling up and down, in and out, in constant motion, mesmerizing. He found a lonely place on the dock and sat there staring out to sea – taking it in - breathing in the salty air, feeling the bracing wind batter his face.

"I'll be back," he promised himself. "Once I'm a dragon, I'll be back."

Next, he jumped to Queen Nasuada's court. Torsein spent the better part of an hour wandering the halls. No one questioned him, thinking that if he got past the guards at the gate, he must belong to someone. The smell of food drew him downward into a large kitchen. There in the corner sat a young girl with frizzy hair and sassy as can be.

"It's you," said Torsein before he could stop himself. "You haven't changed. The last time I saw you was 400 years ago."

"Who are you? How did you see me that long ago?"

"Rhunön showed me a memory of you. Who are your cat friends? Don't tell me. That's Maude, the werecat. She used to live in Ellesméra."

"Who are you?" asked Angela, her eyes narrowing to just slits.

"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it." He grinned and began to back out of the room.

"Not so fast," and Angela scooted around him and blocked the door.

Torsein laughed with glee and winked as he drew a window in the air and vanished through it.

He found himself sitting in a lonely place, leaning against a tall tree, looking out over quiet woodlands. Birds were singing in the distance. The day was coming to an end. He must have jumped to the eastern lands in his rush to get away from that girl. Slowly, as he looked around, he recognized it as a place he and Diskori used to come and practice magic. He would miss being Eragon and Arya's son. Maybe they wouldn't mind having a dragon for a son, maybe.

Torsein walked through the twilight of these familiar woods for a while then jumped back to his hut on the Crags of Tel'naeír

He suddenly felt alone.

For the next many weeks, Torsein spent his time learning how to sing magic. He started with small things like flowers, then small trees, telling them to grow into various shapes. Rhunön then taught him her secret ways of imbuing swords and other metalworks with power – power to remain sharp, to not break.

"But how is it working?" wailed Torsein.

"Do you always know how a spell is working?"

"No."

"Then be content. It works. The blade will never break."

"Where is it getting it's power to do so?"

"From the elements, or the sun itself. How would I know? Perhaps the life that surrounds all things is keeping the spell powered. I have never been able to discover this part."

"What if this spell, this song, was applied to a person, would they always have the energy they needed?"

"That has not been tested. I don't advise it."

"As you wish." But a seed had been planted.

The time had come for Torsein to start singing his body into dragon form.

"Do you want to look like a cross between elf and dragon like your friend Blödhgarm and his wolf-shaped body, or ..."  
"I want to _be_ a dragon, not just look like one."

You may not be able to talk as you do now."

"I accept that."

'Do you want to grow to the size of a mountain or remain small? I know the answer."

"Small, of course. Then I can fit into small places, visit people that live in buildings. I see myself as staying the size of a large dog, about the size I am now. And I want to still be good at casting spells."

"Then go to your hut and write the lyrics for your song. Come back tomorrow and we will begin. Diskori and I will be waiting for you."

As it turned out, no words came to Torsein that were sufficient. A lot of emotions rose out of him, though. _These must be the foundation for the song,_ concluded Torsein. He slept a soundless sleep, the last one he would know as a walk-on-two-legs.

The next early morning, he stood in the atrium next to Rhunön's hut. Diskori was there, humming with energy. Rhunön was there. Torsein had contacted the other Eldunari who were his friends and could be trusted, and they reached out to him, across the vast lands in the east, adding their energy to Torsein's. Diskori helped make that connection. Torsein began to sing. The words were of no known language, but filled with the emotions of his heart. The sun rose and he sang. The sun reached meridian height and he sang.

By the afternoon, you could see his shape had changed. He no longer looked human or elvish, not like any other being that walked on two legs in all of Alagaësia. The moon rose and the sun set. Torsein was still singing. His hair fell out and you could see scales of a lovely shade of green begin to pop up out of his skin. His eyes changed size and hue. His head elongated, his teeth lengthened, and then wings began to sprout out of his shoulders. A tail began forming and lengthening.

His size remained the same as before. That part of the song was true. Then he lost the ability to sing and continued to hum draconic sounds late into the night. Claws grew out of his feet, his wings were complete and spikes grew out of his spine and tail. At last, he felt that the transformation was complete. He let out a roar and jumped into the sky, quickly gaining altitude until he was gliding effortlessly over the pinewood city. At this moment, the sun rose in the east.

It was not so unusual to see a dragon in these parts since the rising of the Riders. No one took notice. He drew a circle in the air with a claw, thought the spell for creating a scrying window and saw Teirm laid out before him. He roared once more and jumped through it into the sky high above the sea beyond Teirm. He was elated, overwhelmed with joy, thrilled beyond anything he had experienced.

He drew another window and jumped through it to Lake Oromis, floating there ... like a dragon-shaped cloud. His thoughts wandered - seeing his whole life laid out before him. Then he dove down and down, as he had so often dreamed of doing before - hitting the surface of the lake, splitting it into many droplets of water soaring upward as he went down. Under the water he went. He closed his first eyelids and looked around. A fish was swimming nearby. He darted forward and caught it in his teeth, then tore it to pieces and he swallowed. Nothing ever tasted so go.

Resting on the surface of the lake, he silently contacted the Eldunari who had helped him and thanked them. _Look at what you've done! Look! Look at me! I am a dragon!_ He roared again as he jumped up into the air. Another window appeared and he landed with thud in Rhunön's atrium. Torsein then crawled forward towards Rhunön and licked her feet. _Thank you._

Tor drew another window and passed through it back into the skies beyond Teirm. He hovered there feasting on the beauty of the sea and setting sun until the horizon had darkened to only a slight glow. Then Tor said to the world as if it was a living thing, _Thank you. Most of all, I thank you._

Chapter 16

"My work is done," proclaimed Rhunön. "Now I go back to my forge." Her face was graced with one of the nicest smiles every seen in this world - a smile that denotes the deepest satisfaction. "When I made one of those Rider Swords, the last thing I did was to name it, with the Rider's help. You need a new name. What will it be?"

 _Name? Torsein, of course._

"Not a good choice, since that is no longer who you are."

 _Oh. ... how about Verdant? Wait, not that, not quite. Vail! Because I pass through my scrying window. Bah! Worm, no, Samuel, too common. ... What's wrong with common? Not scary enough. Wait! I'm not trying to be scary. Sam's a nice name. What do you think, Rhunön, Diskori?_

"You'd make a good Sam, but ... I thought you'd do better than that," said Rhunön.

 _Like what? What would you pick as a name?_

Rhunön sat quietly for a minute, hands clasped in her lap, lips pursed. "You haven't mentioned any elvish names, why?"

 _I'm not an elf._

"That could be debated, but, OK, you're not an elf. I once knew a dragon named Razaline. You remind me of him."

 _Raz is a good name. It's how I'm feeling right now. I still like Tor the best. Maybe I've just gotten used to it._

"Make up your mind."

 _Zmonj. It just came to me. It's an Urgralgra word._

"It means 'change.' Very apt too," said Rhunön. "You are definitely a catalyst for change. I will add one more word: Rushko, Rushko Zmomj, winds of change."

 _It's a good name,_ said Diskori.

"Well? Do you pick that name, then?" chided Rhunön.

 _No. I'm still Tor at heart._

"Then Tor it is, but I'm adding Rushko Zmomj as a title, to remind you who you are."

Rhunön cast the spell for naming and her work of art was complete, hot off the forge and named. "I haven't had this much fun in ages," she said. "Now go into the world and enjoy your newfound freedom." Tor looked reluctant. "Go! And bring me word once in a while." She smiled and then turned back to her forge. As Tor was leaving, she turned and said, "And Tor, I'm keeping Diskori here. We get a long and he'd only get in your way."

Tor Rushko Zmonj leaped into the air and flew off over the trees, light of heart, free to fly at last. He spent the rest of the day just flying. Soaring low over the trees, scaring all the birds there into flight. Ascending past the highest peeks and almost laying there on the fluffy clouds like a feather bed. He landed twice to find food. Mice were his favorite, next to fish. At the end of the day, Tor settled in a clearing next to a stream.

Exhausted, he soon fell asleep. And in his sleep he had a dream. It was filled with storm clouds and lightening. Then Glaedr's voice boomed out of the dark and accused, _What have you done to yourself, son of man and elf? You are no dragon. Go back to where you came from._

Tor awoke with a start, looked around and only saw a clear sky filled with stars. _Have I done the right thing?_ questioned Tor. He had never been taken by worry. This turn in his emotions confused him. He couldn't get back to sleep. At last, daylight crept over the eastern horizon. He flew onward, he did not know where.

In a medium-sized room next to the kitchen, Carol was perched on the stone windowsill, looking into the room. _The hunting was good. Lots of mice in the fields outside of_ _Ilirea._

 _You should have listened_ _to me. You would have gone sooner._ Maude licked the fur of her paw.

 _When are you going to ride me ... Dragon Rider,_ teased Carol.

 _Ah ... we've gone over this. Cats don't do well in the air. I can watch you fly._

 _Humph!_ Carol jumped down to the floor and tapped on the door, saying, _Open._ The door swung open and Carol wandered out into the hall, followed by Maude.

 _What if you get caught? worried Maude._

 _I'm bored. Getting caught would be splendid._

They wandered here and there, inching their way to the throne room. Maude jumped up onto Carol's back, looking ridiculous, she was sure of it. They entered the throne room and sat down next to One Paw who was sitting on the chair next to the throne. One Paw looked down at Maude with a scowl. He had never seen the little dragon before, and quickly turned away, slightly confused. No one else noticed Carol and Maude. They sat there all morning. Carol was bored.

That evening, Carol announced, _I'm going on a trip to get away from this castle. I'll miss you but not enough to go on foot – since you won't ride on my back._

 _Do you have to? It's nice and cozy here._

 _Yes, I have to. I'll feel better when I return._ Carol leaped to the windowsill and jumped into the air, soaring out over the courtyard.

Maude rushed to the window and hollered, _Why now?_

Carol only turned slightly and winked back at Maude before she dropped over the wall and out of sight. Maude stepped away from the window and passed into the kitchen to find Solumbum. Carol was far away, skimming low over the fields looking for her favorite food – mice. Much later that night, Carol was flying over the wilds running along Ramr River.

Flying! One of her favorite things to do - feeling the air on her body, her wings lifting up and down in rhythm with her breathing. She wasn't tired, but thought that some sleep would do her good. Carol landed in a clearing, then stopped, completely silent, listening, for she heard someone else breathing. It wasn't her. She was holding her breath. Carol backed into the shadows of the trees and waited. Then the breathing stopped and she could sense someone staring at her. She wanted to jump into the air and fly away but something stopped her. Carol had always been the curios type.

 _Who are you?_ came a voice from out of the dark, coming into her mind.

 _A dragon,_ said Carol. She stepped into the moonlight so she could be seen.

 _You're the wrong size,_ said the voice. It sounded jolly.

 _I made myself stop growing ... with magic._ She didn't mean to say that much.

 _How delightful!_ The unknown being then got up and walked over to Carol, into the moonlight.

 _He was a dragon, just like her – and the right size,_ she thought. Her curiosity took over. She flicked the air with her tongue and then pressed her nose against his. Tor, for that is who this was, circled around Carol. She did the same, like too swordsmen summing up the other's abilities - except this was no duel to the death, but the dragon's mating rite. Their scales brushed against each other as they continued to circle.

 _You are perfect_ , said Tor.

Carol answered him, _You're the reason I left that old musty castle._ Then he pounced! The game had began.

We will leave them here without further scrutiny. You can guess the outcome.

The next morning, Tor and Carol were snuggled up in the forest, not too far from where she had landed the night before. They were awake but remained silent. At last, Carol's curiosity took over and she asked, _You can do magic?_

Tor lifted his head and looked over at her. _Yes. I can do magic – lots of magic._

 _So can I. It might be because I am bonded with a werecat for a Rider._

 _What? That's not allowed._

 _It must be, because that's what happened. Her name if Maude._

 _Maude? I know her,_ Tor said as he stood. Then using a claw he drew a circle in the air and a window appeared showing Nsuada's throne room. Maude was sitting on a chair next to the throne.

 _How did you do that?_ asked Carol. _No one can do that, I'll bet. Who are you?_

 _I love you, Carol. Do you love me? Will you stay by my side even if things get rather exciting at times?_

 _We just met! I can't say I didn't enjoy myself. But love? ... Yes, I suppose that I do love you. Love isn't a word thing with dragons. We feel it, and I feel love. Did you say exciting? You have no idea how bored I am. Hey! Where are we going?_ Tor had just pulled her towards the scrying window. _We can't just walk through this thing, can we?_

Tor was already through and extended a paw to pull her through. _Come on,_ he prodded. _Excitement, remember, This will be over the top._

Chapter 17

The court backed away from the two dragons who had mysteriously appeared in the room. Nasuada nodded toward the door and a group of solders rushed in. Tor merely flicked his right claw towards the door and the solders froze in their tracks. _I am not dangerous to you, but I will not be threatened by that lot._ He broadcast his words so that all in the room could hear him.

"I see by the spot on your right paw that you are a Dragon Rider. Can you explain?" said Nasuada.

A young lady in her early twenties stepped out from behind a curtain and whispered in Nasuad'a ear, "I can do nothing to this one, my Lady. He has no fear." She had violet eyes and the bearing of one who is above everyone in the room. She was the witch child, Elva, and Nasuada's last defense.

"Who are you?" demanded Nasuada.

 _The son of a friend._

"And her?" Nasuada pointed at Carol.

 _I'm the dragon who_ _wanted to be free with no Rider. It didn't work out as I wished, though. I bonded with Maude – quite by accident._ Carol also broadcast her words to all in the room. Maude slumped down in her chair and tried to disappear.

Nasuada couldn't help but smile, thinking of a cat Rider. She could also sense how Maude must be feeling, so she reached over and stroked Maude's spine and said, "I'm sure it was an accident. I see the makings of a wonderful story here."

Then she turned back to Tor and asked, "Son of who?"

 _Ah, that is for your ears only, I'm afraid. If you can ask everyone to leave._ The guards suddenly became unfrozen. _I will be glad to tell you. You may call Murtagh. He knows me better than you do._

"I don't know you."

 _Oh, yes you do._

Curiosity far overshadowed Nasuada's caution at this point. "Please, everyone leave. I think a private conference is about to open." Then looking at a page, she motioned, and said, "Go and get Murtagh."

Fifteen minutes later, Murtagh walked in. Startled by the presence of two small dragons, and a near-empty room. "Nasuada, my Lady," he said with a bow and flourish. That was one of those things Nsauda found endearing about him.

 _Murtagh!_ Tor said. _I've missed you more than most that have passed on to other places and duties. You used to hold me on your lap. Do you remember?_

"Lap? Passed on? You mean that I came here? Who are you, young dragon?"

 _The son of Eragon and Arya, Tor. Now also called Rushko Zmonj._

"How? What? You've changed. You're part human and elf, not dragon."

Carol was shocked at this news and started to back away, shaking her head.

 _I sang myself into a dragon._ _Rhunön taught me how._ _I am a dragon, through and through. Not elf or human._ Seeing Carol's reaction, Tor slipped to her side and said, just to her, _I am yours. I am 100% dragon now, no matter what I was before, and I am yours. Please stay. The excitement is just starting._

"OK," said Nasuada, "That is intriguing. Why did you choose now to come here? What is your purpose?"

 _No reason. Carol said she was bored, that's all._

"Bored? That's all? This is a royal court," scolded Nasuada.

 _Yes. And I haven't answered your question about this, yet._ Tor held out his paw so all could see the silver oval mark there.

"The silver palm," said Murtagh. He held up his own silver palm. "Explain, please."

 _I used to hang out with the unhatched eggs set aside for bonding with Dragon Riders. There was this one which was dead, the body was dead, but I could talk to it, so it wasn't dead, just trapped. I opened the egg and sure enough, there was a rotting baby dragon body in there, and ... a small Eldunari. He, Fordni, had managed to lodge his consciousness in his Eldunari before dying. Are you with me so far?_

Nasuada was tight as a bowstring. A light had gone off behind Murtagh's eyes.

 _I touched the Eldunari and became bonded with it. Then I cast a spell (I'm particularly apt at doing this, especially without words to restrict the flow of magic). The spell compelled me to push the Eldunari into my chest. Over time, he and I merged into one mind, one heart. I am he, he is me. I am a dragon. It only stood to reason that I sing myself into that form._

"Amazing. Why tell us?" reasked Nasuada.

 _I said she was bored._ Tor pointed at Carol. _I was born with lots of magic, considering who my parents are. And I retained my ability to control it like a walk-on-two-legs when I became a dragon. Think on this: I am a dragon who_ _can control my magic. I'm one of a kind ... except for her. Carol can also cast magic spells._

"What!?" Exclaimed everyone, even Carol, who wished she was kept out of this. She swallowed hard and decided to go with the flow.

 _Yep. That's me, I cast spells. It might have been Maude's doing._ She looked at the empty chair where Maude was sitting earlier. _Werecats and dragons aren't supposed to bond, you know, and they're magical creatures. Or it might have been shear luck. Here's a spell. You're going to ask anyway._ Carol tapped the floor with a talon and said, _Handy with a Pandy._

The door immediately opened and in walked the cook. She curtsied and said, "I know you didn't ask for this, but I felt compelled to bring you a cake, just out of the oven too, as if I'd been planning this all along, but I haven't." She set the cake on a table and left.

Nasuada burst out laughing. "I _was_ pining for a cake just now. Murtagh, could you do the honors and cut the cake? I see she has provided us with plates and forks." Everyone ate in silence for a while, even the two dragons had some.

 _I prefer my cake with fur instead of frosting. I love mice,_ said Carol.

 _My favorite is fish._

 _I haven't had any yet. Been trapped in this castle._

 _Then that's out next adventure._

 _You swear that you're a dragon, not a make-believe one._

 _You recall last night and you doubt?_

Carol shivered. _No. Forgive me. I'm yours. Can we go? I'm getting bored._

Word reached Eragon and Arya describing what their son had done long before he and Carol got around to going to the village to explain. Fun was high on their list, just then. Eragon and Arya were besides themselves with worry – something that parents are good at, perhaps a little too good.

Within the week, Tor stood before King Orik. Carol couldn't understand dwarvish and so she remained outside, exploring the twilight of Farthen Dûr. Orik, of course, wanted to hear all about how Tor became a dragon. And Tor obliged. At the place in the story where Tor explained how he had cast a spell and then pushed the Eldunari into his chest, Orik began laughing. Tears were flowing down his face and he couldn't stop.

Tor was getting annoyed. He couldn't see what was so funny about his story. At last Orik calmed down enough so that he could almost talk. He wagged a finger at Tor and only shook his head. Finally he blurted out, "That makes you one of the knurla, even more than your father is."

Tor looked puzzled. "I will explain," continued Orik. "Your father was adopted into mine clan, the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, and has fulfilled his obligations to us honorably. You, as his son, are also of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum by right of birth." And it was here that Orik began to smile.

Tor was afraid Orik would lose it again, so he prodded, _And ... that makes me a knurla? I already speak your language. But, actually, I'm a dragon._

"That you are. And a fine one at that. But," and here Orik began to beat his chest, "You now have a heart of stone just like one of us knurla."

 _You mean ..._

Orik nodded his head, then said, _The reason knurla say that they come from stone and return to stone is because they have a heart of stone like the dragons._

 _You all have Eldunari in your chests? I'm ... I'm without words._

Orik beamed with pleasure that Tor had caught the irony of his choosing to merge with his own heart of stone.

 _But, I'm a dragon, not a knurla._

"You speak awfully good knurlan for not being one."

 _Have it your way. I cannot deny your words. Why not adopt all the dragons then?_

"We have been discussing this."

Tor thought in silence for a couple of minutes then said with conviction, _I am honored to be counted as one of your clan, King Orik._ He bowed his head.

Carol was flying around inside of Farthen Dûr. She found that more interesting than all this dwarvish talk she couldn't understand. At last, Tor joined her, circling forever in circles around Tronjheim's top.

 _King Orik and I had a nice talk. Sorry you were bored. You could have talked with the Eldunari that are staying here._

 _They scare me. I was waiting for you to introduce me to them._

 _Come this way then,_ and they both dove for the east entrance to the city.

Walking through the massive doors, they strode past the many dwarves that stood in groups talking in hushed tones. Other dwarves were walking along at a quick pace, eager to get somewhere. One group of dwarves was working on a cabinet, adorning it with jewels and carved panels. This was to be a resting place for some new Eldunari that had just arrived. Tronjheim was a coveted place of rest for the Eldunari. Some of the mad ones were coming back to their senses after these long years of the elves effort to cure them. They constituted most of this new group of arrivals.

Umaroth had never left Tronjheim from the days when Murtagh had come to help the Dwarves accept being Dragon Riders. He found the atmosphere calming. Tor and Carol stopped in front of a particularly nice cabinet.

 _Umaroth. I am Tor. Do you remember me?_

 _I remember Torsein, but you are not he. I feel a dragon's consciousness. Hmm ... I feel an unusually large capacity to do good. A vibration of the heart. It is hard to find words to express this. I feel a vast magical power emanating from you. There is a part or you I recall being part of young Torsein. But who are you?_

Tor smiled. _Well said,_ _Umaroth_. _You might know me better as Fordni, a dragon who_ _would not hatch. Some thought I was dead. I am not dead. My Eldunari was rescued by me, the part of me that used to be Torsein. Does this help you understand who I am? I am Fordni and also Torsein. We have merged and we have sung the body into this shape. Now we are a dragon - and very magical._

 _Yes. I see you now. You are Torsein, and you are Fordni, and neither of you have survived the merging. This should not have been done. It was forbidden in the old days._

 _Well, it_ has _been done. I am the result and I feel just fine - more than fine. This is Carol, a dragon I am bonded with._

Carol dipped her head and said, timidly, _Greetings_ _Umaroth. Do not be angry with Tor. He has a good heart, even if he never does what is expected of him._

Tor looked at Carol a little surprised. First Umaroth then Carol had mentioned his heart. _What could they mean?_ he mused.

Long after their talk with Umaroth, Tor thought and thought about this heart vibration idea. He began to examine his heart more critically, then the hearts of those nearby. He did find a vibration there. He found that those he thought of as nice people, would inevitably have a higher heart vibration. Tor didn't know what to think of this discovery, but he thought it must be important.

 _Tor, what are you thinking about?_ asked Carol. It was late.

 _Hearts,_ he replied. _And how they all vibrate at different rates._

 _Of course they do._

 _What do you mean?_

 _Hearts vibrate._

 _You feel this? You feel the hearts vibrating, all at different rates?_

 _All dragons feel this. See? You're not 100% dragon yet. You are still learning how to be one. Now go to sleep. You are keeping me awake._

 _As you wish, my love._

The Urgralgra village was next on Tor's list of places to visit. Carol liked it a lot more than the darkness of Tronjheim. This is when they both were glad they had chosen not to grow any bigger. They could easily fit into the Lodge. That is where they met the Herndall, the council of dams who ruled their people. Nar Garzhvog was there, now a Dragon Rider and not their war chief. "You Eragon Fire Sword's son. You look like a dragon," said Garzhvog. His dragon who lay in the village square roared with approval of his Rider's mood. Tor was not a dragon, and that was that.

Tor looked around, reading the hearts of the Urgralgra. Carol, catching on to this game of Tor's by this time, did the same. What they found was not expected. Their hearts were mostly good and strong - the hearts of those you could count on to trust, even with your life. But if you threatened them or their families, watch out! The vibration would soar to a fever pitch. They also found thought patterns that made it totally acceptable to hurt others, even torture them. At these times, when the mind was filled with these feelings, their hearts would diminish. This was a volatile race.

They took their leave the next morning and flew out over the lake, Lake Fläm near the eastern base of the Spine. The sun was out. The fish were jumping, and Tor and Carol dove down together into the deep, bubbles trailing behind them as they exhaled. After a good meal of fish, they rested on the surface of the water in silence. Peace prevailed.

 _I know where you want to go next,_ said Carol.

 _Where?_

 _Landeous Nebus, the village far to the east._

 _Yes, that is where I wish to go. We have not faced my parents yet. I have been putting it off. And I have something to propose that will promote peace for all._

 _If anyone can figure this out, you can._

 _With your help, my love._

Chapter 18

A notion came to Tor that he should teach Carol how to draw scrying windows and also learn to move through them from one place to another – a handy magic trick if ever there was one.

 _Draw a circle in the air,_ prodded Tor.

 _I can't do that window thingy. That's your magic._ Carol was nonplussed.

 _Nonsense. Draw a circle._

Carol drew a circle in the air before her. It was just a circle. Nothing appeared. _See? You're the magician, not me. I just twiddle with magic._

 _No. I'm sure yo can do this if you try._

 _OK, but don't expect too much._

 _Think of a person or place, one that you know, and draw a circle in the air, at the same time project your memory onto that circle, willing it to become a window displaying the real person or place, not just the memory. Got it?_

 _I understand ... Doing it takes more than understanding._

 _You have what it takes. Try it again._

Carol took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then recalled a memory Tor had shared with her of the sea outside of Teirm – high above the sea, looking down at the small white caps that were whisked up by the strong late afternoon winds. Clouds were forming low on the horizon like a fog bank vaporizing into the upper stratosphere. The sun was moving towards the western horizon, just barely touching the clouds and causing them to light up in an array of glorious colors. Carol was caught up by this memory – it seemed so real.

Then she realized that the same image had appeared in the window that she had drawn in the air before her. She stepped through her window and there she was – flying above the sea at Teirm. In the fresh sea air, flying where she wasn't only moments before. The sensation was thrilling. It had been interesting to step through one of Tor's windows, but this! A window of her own making – that was exciting. She was not in the least bit bored at this moment.

Then she realized the crucial point. It was supposed to be morning, not afternoon. She thought of Tor, _Where is Tor right now?_ She drew a circle. Tor appeared in her window. He was flying over Lake Fläm and he looked worried, actually, he looked alarmed.

 _He doesn't know where I went to, and neither do I._ She spread her wings and caught a thermal, just resting there for a moment, so she could focus. The window was still there. She uttered the single word, _Pass,_ and she flew through the circle into the warmer air above the lake. Tor came zooming up to her, angry and glad and on the verge of weeping. It was late afternoon.

 _Where did you go? I couldn't find you anywhere._

 _I went to the sea beyond Teirm ... in the afternoon, that is how I envisioned it and there is where I went – skipping ahead in time. I do not want to do that again._

 _No. I can see that you wouldn't. Let me think ... I always envision the window showing me the now, the present. It is almost a subconscious notion, but there nontheless, always keeping me anchored in time. I didn't think to mention this. Please forgive me._

 _It wasn't your fault. You look so wonderful when you're worried, and all over a little mistake. I'll try it again and this time add the thought of 'Right now'._

Tor looked as if he was going to protest, but she held up a paw to silence him. _I'm going to Teirm, in the now. You follow and see if you can find me._

She drew her window, placed the memory of Teirm on it then added, _In the now,_ very firmly. She passed through the window and disappeared.

Tor followed and after scanning the skies around about, he spied Carol diving down into the water to escape his eyes. _A game! This is more like it. No more scares. Just a game._ He envisioned being just above the waves where he had seen her dive, passed though his window and looked down into the water. She was not there.

 _Boo!_ Carol had passed through a window underwater and reappeared just above Tor. He jumped, then twisted in midair so his belly was facing upward, clasped Carol's talons with his and drew a window with his mind just below them. As they fell, the window closed behind them and they found that they were landing softly on a bed of pines deep in Du Weldenvarden.

 _Where are we?_

 _In the forest near Ellesméra._

 _Are you tired?_

 _No._

The morning sun came up in all its glory the following day.

 _This is the day,_ announced Tor. Carol opened one eye and blew warm air into his face. _I want to go to the Land Eastward and talk to Saphira._

 _And your parents,_ declared Carol.

 _And my parents. It's noon already in that part of the world._ He drew a circle in the air and Saphira was there, gliding above Lake Oromis. Tor swallowed and said, _Here we go._ He took Carol's paw and they jumped off the ground and through the window into the skies above the Lake.

Saphira saw them appear and turned to face them. _It's about time you came to see me, younglings._

 _Saphira,elda,_ said Tor as he dipped his head. _It could not have been sooner and should not be later. We have arrived in time._

 _In time for what?_

 _For the grandest council meeting this world has seen since the Great War ended. We are the catalyst, the winds of change, as Rhunön predicted. She was my teacher._

 _She has not taught anyone for centuries._

 _Rhunön mentioned that._

 _You have a strong and beautiful energy._

 _And me,_ added Carol.

 _And you. Come, both of you and we will fly to the village._

The wind took them. Time passed, and darkness found them as they landed before the doorway into the cave at the village. On the way, Saphira shared her memories of the places and people she had met over the years, adding to their arsenal possibilities for travel using the scrying window. _You're going to need these memories, younglings._

Eragon was there, reading a book. He heard a noise outside and stepped into the twilight to see who had arrived. Saphira was all he saw at first. He briskly walked up to her and lovingly touched her cheek. "Your adventure in the far north was successful, I take it. I'm glad to see you again."

 _And I you, little one._ She swung her head around and motioned to Tor and Carol, _Come up here_ _where you can be seen,_ she prodded.

Tor and Carol stepped into the light that emulated from the open doorway.

"Two small dragons whom I've never seen before," said Earagon. "Are you from the north? Did Saphira find you wandering up there?"

 _Arya is needed_ _here ... now,_ said Saphira, she seemed impatient.

"She's in the house. I'll call her." There was no need, for Arya had just stepped into the light, her face a glow. Eragon did not understand, but he was about to.

Saphira sat down. Tor walked up to Arya and licked her hand, eyes full of tears. _Mother, I have returned. My training is complete._ Arya knelt down and put her arms around Tor's neck and hugged him fiercely. Then she began to cry – not an elvish characteristic.

"Who? What?" said Eragon, then he understood and he too was on his knees hugging Tor. "My son." Then he stood and scolded, "What the hell did you do to yourself?"

Arya stood as well and asked, as she whipped the tears form her eyes, "And who is this charming young dragon that is with you?"

 _This is Carol, my mate._ Then turning to Eragon he said, _I became a dragon. I thought that would have been obvious. It makes a marvelous story. You have a fireside?_

For the next long while, late into the night, they sat and talked – not just about Tor's experiences, but how the village was getting along. Then the topic turned to politics and the never-ending struggle to establish peace in Alagaësia. Saphira, who sat outside, was keenly interested in everything they said, but added little unless it concerned the dragon race.

"Perhaps Nasuada was right," said Eragon, "and the magicians should be regulated. They seem to be the root cause of most of the chaos the Riders are constantly attempting to mitigate."

"That would interfere with the basic principle of free will that we all decided must be considered above all else," said Arya. It was obvious that this conversation had happened many times before.

Eargaon opened his mouth to respond, most likely a well rehearsed rebuttal, but Tor cut in. _I have an idea. It will solve your_ _problems and leave everyone's free will in tact – to a point._

"Explain," said Eragon and Arya together.

 _No, I think not. Not yet. I will propose that we call a council including leaders from every race and interested groups._

Arya said, "This is why you have come." It was a statement, not a question.

 _Yes,_ said Carol. _And to meet you and explain ourselves to you. How does it feel to have a dragon for a son? For he is nearly 100% dragon now, not much elf or human is left. I aught to know._

"I'll get used to it," said Eragon. He looked confused.

Arya smiled. "You were always part dragon. This I could see. It made me glad. If there were any such thing as the gods, I would ask them to bless you with long life and happiness. Both of you."

"I'll come around," added Eragon. "Now, about this meeting."

 _Carol and I will go and invite them to come. This is a challenge I look forward to. I must do it because if they will not accept a summons from me then they will not accept my idea for lasting peace._

 _I am here,_ said Saphira, _and I will represent the Dragons race along with_ _Umaroth_ _who resides in Tronjheim, and_ _the other dragons who are bonded to Riders who will be attending_ _the meeting._

 _Tomorrow,_ said Tor. _We'll go tomorrow. It is late and we are all tired._

"You haven't shown us this scrying window you described," said Eragon. "I'd like to see it."

Tor and Carol looked at each other and smiled. Then Tor drew a circle which opened up to show a lone place in the forest down by Lake Oromis. They walked through it and disappeared from sight.

Arya looked at Eragon, and said, "They are young, but possibly just what this world needs to set things right." They both looked off into the distance as if seeing some marvelous vision and said together, "The Winds of Change."

Chapter 19

Tor and Carol glided with the slight wind flowing up Palancar valley. The small farms seemed prosperous, the towns neat and orderly. The last vestige of the Great War had finally been swept away. The valley even boasted of a new town, Utgard, which flourished at the mouth of the valley. Not just a few mansions could be seen in the hills overlooking the towns, but the crowning glory of Palancar Valley was, by far, the Earl's castle on a slight rise, overseeing the whole valley. Roran Strong Hammer was his name. Wealth simply flowed into his valley from every direction. Some said it was luck, others that he was a war hero and that set him up, or perhaps his wealth came to him because his cousin was Eragon, _The_ Dragon Rider.

Actually it was none of those reasons, Roran was a natural leader. People loved following him. And, as it turned out, his knack for achieving victories in war in the face of impossible odds, also served him as a Lord and Governor. Even before he had returned to Palancar Valley, a multitude of people had come to be a part of his Earldom. They brought money, skills and fresh ideas, which, with Roran's direction, brought prosperity to all.

After landing in the courtyard, they were escorted into Roran's council room. He was just finishing giving instructions to a group who turned and, with straight backs and a proud demeanor, marched from the room. Roran looked up and saw two small dragons approaching him. This was not so uncommon a slight. Dragons and their Riders often came visiting, but never dragons by themselves.

"Greetings," said Roran as he waved a hand in welcome. "What can I do for you?" He had heard rumors of two such dragons from the never-ending gossip that bounced across Alagaësia by way of the magical mirrors that most courts had.

 _I am Tor, and this is Carol._

"Torsein? Eragon's son?" He left his seat at once and knelt on the floor before the dragons. "You've changed." Then gave each of them a hug. "This is not an occasion for the council room. Let's find a quiet place where we can talk in private."

They found a balcony with a view of the whole valley. And once settled, Roran reasked the question, "What brings you here?"

 _We have come to summon you to a council meeting in the land eastward, in Landeous Nebus, the likes of which has not been held since the Great War came to an end,_ said Tor.

"Why me? I am but the leader of a minor province."

 _And a prosperous one,_ added Carol. She winked at him.

 _We need your insight,_ said Tor. _Your knack for seeing beyond the usual solutions to problems. It has been many long years since the war ended and we still don't have lasting peace._

"We have it here," said Roran.

 _And why is that?_ asked Tor.

"Because that was our first and only goal. We were done with Galbatorix and his bloody ways, and all of us, the whole valley, worked together to achieve peace. We also sought prosperity for all, not just the elite who already enjoyed that blessing. I never sought for riches for myself. This castle, all the wealth flowing to me was just a side effect. I have never taxed more than a reasonable amount, and none at all during lean years. We've only had two of those, I thank the gods."

 _And that is why you are needed at this council. Will you come? It is scheduled for tomorrow morning._

"Gladly."

 _We'll come back for you this afternoon to escort you,_ said Tor. _I just hope that King Orin will be as easy._

"Don't count on it. He's not called bloody King Orin for nothing. He has become a stern, unmoving man."

 _Then the tales about him are true?_ asked Tor.

"You mean how the town of Furnost refused to be annexed into Surda and claimed the right to govern themselves instead? He waged war against them and slaughtered half their men before they gave in. The hatred for King Orin still runs very in high those parts. I don't blame them. I wanted to go and whack Orin's head a few times myself when news of the battle reach us here - with the blunt end of my hammer of course." Roran shook his head, clearly still at a loss as to why a king would follow such a course.

 _Time to leave,_ said Carol. _Lots to do. And don't expect us too early - maybe not even till tomorrow. I told Tor_ _this was going to take longer than he had planned._ They jumped up to the railing and up into the sky. Roran rose from his chair to leave but was caught by the simple grace of the two small dragons flying across the valley. He sat back down to watch. Then a window opened before them and they sailed through it before vanishing from view.

Roran whistled. _They may be young, but still a power to be reckoned with,_ he mused.

Tor and Carol landed in the inner courtyard of Borromeo Castle. They were surrounded by guards and taken to a small room to wait, then taken to another room and asked lots of questions about why they wanted to see King Orin. After waiting there awhile, Tor finally lost patience and scried the king, then opened a window and they both stepped into a large room. King Orin was, in fact, taking a nap with a large folded paper resting over his face to block out the sun that was streaming through a window. King Orin jumped with a start at being awakened and sat up. He saw the dragons and scowled. Then looked at the open window.

"So, thought you'd fly in here through my window and bypass the long line of people waiting to see me, did you? You can just leave the way you came and wait your turn." He stooped to pick up the paper that had fallen to the floor, clearly expecting immediate obedience. Tor and Carol didn't move, they only stared at the king. "You still here? Shoo, get going."

 _This one is rude,_ said carol and she broadcasted her thoughts so the king could also hear her comment.

 _Shhh,_ said Tor, then he said to the king, Y _ou are being summoned to a council meeting to be held tomorrow at the village at Landeous Nebus. We'll be back in the_ _morning to escort you there._ Then Tor turned and jumped up onto the windowsill to fly away. He motioned for Carol to follow him, then added, _And we didn't get here through this window, but we can leave this way._

King Orin said, plainly, almost in a bored tone, "No, I won't come. Certainly not being summoned by a couple of overgrown lizards."

Carol hissed at that insult. The king ignored her. But Tor didn't. He had never heard that particular sound coming from his mate before, but it didn't sound friendly, not at all.

"Now, will you leave or do I call for the guards?"

 _Call for the guards,_ replied Carol. Her eyes had a gleam in them that boded ill will.

King Orin hesitated slightly then grabbed the bell and gave it the triple ring of an emergency. The sound of heavy boots could be heard in the hall, then the door burst open and the room was suddenly filled with soldiers. Carol tapped the floor and a large window opened up on the floor. The guards tumbled out of sight and the window closed with a snap. Carol looked pleased.

King Orin looked like he would like to ring the bell again, but the bell had rolled out of sight under the sofa. "What did you do with my guards, pray tell?" demanded King Orin.

 _Oh, I dropped them in the river for a little swim, that's all,_ replied Carol. She looked smug.

"I still won't go. You certainly aren't going to kidnap me?" He looked like this was beyond any possibility, but there was some worry behind his words too.

 _Oh forget this. I'll be right back,_ and Carol left the room.

 _Carol?_ But she had already vanished around a corning.

Tor turned back to Orin and scrutinized what he was seeing - a man puffed up beyond his own wits to understand when civility was required.

Then addressing the king, he said, _We are in fact the most powerful beings in this land, Carol and I. We can do magic that others don't even dream of – that's part of the problem. But we know enough to know that we don't know enough. We need your_ _wisdom and years of experience to guide the way. Thus a council is forming._

"I don't answer to you, or anyone else."

 _Perhaps, but the outcome of this council will effect you and your kingdom in a major way. I would think you'd like to be part of the team that decides what to do._

"Balderdash with the team! The last team I was part of turned against me. It will be no different this time. I will not come."

Carol entered the room just then with two children in tow. _Here are two monarch's in the making. They will do for our council if he,_ pointing at the king with a talon, _won't cooperate._

"What are you going to do to my children?!" wailed the king. Orin stepped forward but Tor blocked his way.

 _Do?_ said Carol. _We plan on doing nothing_ to _them. Perhaps we will do some things together, like attend a council to decide the fate of Sudra. You've made your_ _point clear and so we will now leave you to the rest of your nap._

Carol drew a circle in the air and a window appeared, showing a clearing in the center of a quaint village. Arya was there staring up into the sunshine, in the way of the elves. _Go on,_ prodded Carol, Y _ou are expected._ The children walked through the window. The look on their faces was of elation and adventure. The window closed and a wail escaped the king's lips before he reached for a sword that he had handy and charged the dragons. Carol tapped the floor with a talon, a window appeared and the king went sailing through it before it closed.

 _I am getting the hang of this spell, am I not?_

 _You're doing a marvelous job. Where did you send the king?_

 _Downtown Furnost._

King Orik was as pleased to see Tor and Carol as King Orin was displeased.

When Carol recounted the trouble they had with Orin, he added his own lament: "King Orin can be an obstinate fool when it comes to the pasture lands near his borders. Near, I'm telling you, not over them. We know where Sudra begins and ends better than he does. It was our surveyors who drove the original pegs into the ground for his great-grand-sire, that it was."

Finally Tor asked the question: _Will you attend a council meeting tomorrow morning at the village at Landeous Nebus? It would be our honor if you would be there._

"I will come. Gannel will want to be there too."

 _Can you bring Umaroth?_

"That I will. How will we be getting there?"

 _Someone will come for you._ Secretly Tor thought that it would be nice if Eragon came and fetched his old friend on Saphira's back.

Then Tor asked Umaroth, _Will you come tomorrow? You've been listening in. I could feel your consciousness poking around as we talked._

 _I will come. And I will ask Eragon and Saphira to come for us._

Chapter 20

Carol and Tor stepped through a scrying window into the woods of Ellesméra, then walked quietly along the path leading to Tialdarí Hall. King Däthedr was sitting on his throne. Tor and Carol walked up to him and bowed. "What can I do for you," inquired the king, his eyebrows raised in expectancy.

Tor said, _We bring you greetings from Eragon and the land to the far east. And a summons to a council meeting to be held tomorrow. Will you attend?_ Tor stood erect and waited.

"I have not heard of this meeting before. Why does not Eragon or Arya come and give the summons?"

 _It is I that have called the council._ Tor stood silently again to let that knowledge sink in.

"You are only a boy. Yes, I heard rumors of what Rhunön elda had helped you achieve, young Torsein. I only believed half of it. I should be calling the council if I saw the need, and I don't see the need. We are at peace and the war is at an end. We have earned this respite from conflict. Now, I sense that you are attempting to stir up trouble before it's time. Let this world continue in its course without your interference. There, I have given my advise to this supposed council. You can take these words to them as my contribution."

 _Will you not call someone to take your place in our council, to represent the elves, along with Arya?_ asked Tor.

"I have given my reply. Take it and go."

Carol was not in such a polite mood. After having to deal with King Orin's stubbornness, she was ready to just zap this one and move on.

She stepped forward, and showed her teeth. That always put a little doubt in most people, even if she was barely bigger than a dog. The others in the hall had stopped what they we doing and began to take a keen interest in what was going on.

King Däthedr drew his sword and stepped forward. "Are you threatening me?!"

 _Yes,_ replied Carol.

The king began muttering some words in the ancient language and Carol tapped the ground with her talon. The king was instantly enclosed within a cube made of six windows. They were scrying windows all leading back into the cube. Carol smiled. She had been waiting to try that one. Here was the perfect opportunity.

A tall and gentle-looking woman stepped forward and addressed the two small dragons. She smiled. "I've been wanting to do that myself. You must share the spell with me sometime. My name is Faracinth. I will gladly attend this council of yours on behalf of the älfakyn." She extended her hand.

Tor told Carol, _Go ahead. Her heart_ _is vibrating at the right rate. We can trust her to be honest and good._

Carol took Faracinth's hand and bowed. Tor drew a circle in the air and the familiar window appeared showing the clearing in the center of the village at Landeous Nebus. Faracinth looked surprised but when she saw Arya standing there, she was pleased. At that moment, Blödhgarm stepped out of the shadows and stood behind Faracinth.

She said, "There is no need to travel through this window. Blödhgarm will escort me to the meeting tomorrow morning, in the usual way."

Tor and Carol bowed and stepped away. The window closed.

 _The Urgralgra are next I believe_ , said Tor. He opened a new window showing a primitive village. A lone dragon could be seen resting in the sun. Carol stepped through the window with Tor and disappeared. But she had forgotten to release King Däthedr.

This visit to the village of the Urgralgra was not so long as the first time. They were tired and only wanted this long day to be over. They entered the Lodge, and found the Herndall sitting there just as before. Nar Garzhvog was called for and soon stooped so he could enter the Lodge. One of the Herndall agreed to accompany Garzhvog the next morning to attend the council.

Tor commented, _Just one more race to give the summons to. Almost done for the day, except picking up Roran._

 _Two more races,_ corrected Carol, _And can we send Roran off through the window now? Nasuada's court may take more time than we think. Although, I'll admit that I_ _was wrong. It looks as if we'll be_ _delivering_ _the summons_ _to_ _all the races in one day._

Tor drew the circle, created the window and they reappeared in the room Roran was in.

He looked up. "It's time already? You look tired, so I'll save my questions for later."

Katrina then stepped forward and courtesied. "Take good care of my man, will you please." Then backed away and looked at Roran as if she'd never see him again.

Tor stared at her for a moment, trying to recall where he had seen those eyes before. Then it dawned on him, it was Sloan, the old man living in the hut next to his in Ellesméra.

 _Where's the rest of your family?_ asked Tor, trying to be tactful while finding out more about Sloan.

"All gone," replied Katrina, "except our children who are out playing. And Eragon, of course."

 _Don't you have a mother or father who survived the Great War?_

My mother died when I was just a child, and my father died during the war." She looked saddened by this recital.

 _Sloan was his name, wasn't it. I've heard stories about him around the fire at night._

"Yes, Sloan was his name," said Roran. "I didn't know his story was common knowledge."

 _It wasn't but I was a curious child and had sharp ears. Let us show you the way to Landeous Nebus._

Tor drew a circle in the air and asked Roran to step through into the fading light of a long day. Tor and Carol wished they could rest. But not yet. One more ordeal to go. A second circle was drawn and they walked from Palancar Valley into the courtyard of Nasuada's castle.

Soon, Tor and Carol were escorted into the castle and up into a large room facing south. Nasuada was there, and so were a great deal of other people. They seemed to be waiting for someone.

"The rumors that I've heard!" exclaimed Nasuada "Come and rest. Here, let me order some food for you. Fish? Fresh caught today?"

 _We are famished, and you are gracious,_ said Carol.

"Nonsense. I know who my friends are, that's all." Nasuada leaned in to be closer and asked, "Did you really trap King Däthedr in a prison made of windows, and every time he tried to leave through a widow, he would end up back where he started?"

A platter of fish was set on the floor and Tor and Carol began eating, when they weren't talking, that is.

 _Oh!_ exclaimed Carol. _I forgot to_ _release King Däthedr!_ She drew a window and looked in on Tialdarí Hall and found the king sitting on the ground, with his head lowered and his shoulders slumped. A group of elven spell casters were standing in front of the window cube with puzzled expressions on their faces. Carol closed the six windows surrounding the king and he was free. He didn't even attempt getting up. One spell caster stepped up cautiously and offered a hand. He slapped the hand and remained sitting on the ground, a deep scowl on his face. Carol closed the window allowing her to scry Tialdarí Hall and looked around. Everyone was grinning.

 _He irked me,_ said Carol so all could hear.

"I'll keep that in mind. Have some more fish, my dear," said Nasuada, clearly wishing to remain on friendly terms with this young dragon.

Everyone roared with laughter. Carol _did_ have one more fish, just because.

 _Down to business,_ said Tor so all could hear him, in fact both dragons shared their thoughts with all throughout their visit - it being the sociable thing to do.

But Nasuada wasn't ready for business just yet. And there was still some fish on the platter.

"And about King Orin, that wasn't the best approach," continued Nasuada. "Waking him from a nap in his private quarters, dropping his guards in the river, kidnapping his only two children, then, and oh this was the best part, you sent him to the people who hate him the most in all this world, the men of Furnost. The only thing that kept them from hanging him was the fact that King Orin commanded an army that was probably out searching for him. So they placed him on a mule and sent him packing straight away."

The laughter was redoubled. _How do you know all this?_ asked Carol.

"The mirrors have been buzzing all day with news of what you've been up to," said Nasuada. "We are quite ready to go peacefully to your council meeting now that we know the alternatives." More laughter. "I even have friends in Ellesméra who keep me informed."

This was more like a party than a summons. Carol liked parties. She grinned. _I'm young and don't know any better._

"And you two are quite possibly the most powerful beings in this land. You're the only dragons who can control their magic with spells, I'll wager." Nasuada's words had taken on a serious tone and then she added, "Let's get down to business, as you said." She sat in a chair facing the dragons and waited. The empty tray was taken away.

Tor saw his cue and said, _Yes, time to begin._ _You are to come, that goes without saying, but, to make this official, you are being_ _summoned to a council meeting tomorrow morning at Landeous Nebus. Will_ _you be there?_

"I most certainly will," said Nasuada. A man had walked up to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. She placed her hand over his and gave it a slight squeeze. It was Murtagh.

Seeing him there, Tor nodded to him and said, _Murtagh will you come as well?_

"Yes."

 _Then, will you escort her to the village tomorrow morning in the usual fashion?_

"Yes. Consider it done."

Tor then searched the room, looking for any one who was there that might be useful at a council of this importance. Carol noticed Maude and winked at her.

 _Angela! said Tor. There you are in the back. Come forward please._ She jauntily stepped forward, her bushy hair bouncing on her shoulders. Maude and Solumbum followed close behind.

 _And the two werecats,_ added Carol.

A light went on in Tor's head and he said, _Oh, that's the other race you were referring to. Yes, of course, they should be at the council._

One Paw stepped forward and said, _What about me? I'm the king._

 _Wrong vibration,_ is all Carol said, and he stepped back into the crowd.

Angela looked back at One Paw and said, "Cheep, cheep." He returned the look of one ready to kill, but said nothing.

All the races of this land were invited one way or another, by Tor and Carol. Quite a job for one day. They retired from Nasuada's court as soon as they could, and remain polite. Soon they were fast a sleep under that stars near Lake Oromis. And very contented they were too.

Chapter 21

Morning comes early in the far east. Late morning is actually the proper time to get up if you're trying to recover from a hard day's work. That is why Tor and Carol were sleeping in. They kind of knew they were supposed to be awake, but couldn't quite get their eyes to open all the way.

When everyone else for the council had arrived and it was rapidly approaching noon, Eragon scried Tor and Carol to see what was taking them. "That won't do," he said, when he saw them still laying there motionless and no signs of waking. He altered the scrying spell to include sound and gave a shrill whistle – loud enough to disturb the birds in the surrounding trees, making them scatter into the air. Tor's head shoot up like a snake coming out of a hole. "Wake up, you lazybones!" shouted Eragon. "Everyone else is already here!"

 _Already where?_

"At the village, ready for the council meeting _you_ arranged."

 _Council meeting?_ Tor was wide awake by then. Carol was getting there. _Ok, Ok, we're coming. Let us get some fish and we'll fly right over._

It was a clear, warm day, lucky for them. With all the dragons that wanted to attend, they would never all fit in a room. A few minutes later, Tor and Carol were seen flying low over the trees. They landed in front of the cave entrance. A circle of chairs had been set out in the clearing in the center of the village. And like Eragon had said, everyone was there. The dragons and Riders sat together, that's Eargon and Saphira, Arya and Firnen, Murtagh and Thron, Blödhgarm and his black dragon, Evarínya, Nar Garzhvog and Frey. The Urgal Herndall named Quanthl sat next to Garzhvog, with the other dignitaries following: Nasuada, Roran, Orik, Gannel, Orin's two children named Julie and Markus, and the Elvish lady, Faracinth. Cuaroc stood in the back and Umaroth and Glaedr were placed in the center. That left the werecats, Maude and Solumbum, and Angela, who sat next to two empty places reserved for Tor and Carol.

What a gathering this turned out to be! Tor dove right into the topic, in a roundabout way. _He_ didn't even expect it.

 _What do you know about the vibration of the heart?_ There were some blank looks, some nodded their heads, some grinned. _Everyone's heart, the center of their chest, vibrates at a specific rate. It's the pulse of life. That's what makes us who we are. It's a draconic ability to be able to read this vibration in those around us. The higher this rate, the nicer that person tends to be. And the nicer a person is, the faster the rate. Got it? Happiness raises this heart rate, a higher rate makes you happy. Sickness of the body thrives in a lower vibration and is conquered by a body that is vibrating faster._

"Fascinating," said Blödhgarm. "What does this have to do with magic?"

 _That's a good question. Let's get back to that ... in a moment, please._

"You're saying that our moods are regulated by this vibration, if I'm hearing you correctly," said Faracinth. "I've always been fascinated by our dragons and how they perceive this world in such a different way than we do."

 _Yes, moods. I'll add this: a greedy person will have a low heart vibration. Someone who loves to hurt others will have a heart vibration so low, it's barely felt._

 _Nasuada, will you please explain the reasons why you wish to regulate magic in your realm._

Nasuada thought for a moment, then smiled. "At last, I get my pet topic aired where it can do some god. Very well, this is what I have observed: many magicians abuse their gift of being able to perform magic. They use it to cheat, or to get ahead of their fellows. Some use magic for healing or to benefit the community at large. I applaud them. But I'd like to stop the magical scoundrels from taking advantage. I purposed, years ago, actually right after the Great War, to force all magicians to report all their magical spells so this negative behavior of theirs could be punished and stopped.

"Eragon and then Murtagh refused to help me, saying something about the need for free will. I say that the harm these thieving magicians are causing outweighs damage done by lack of free will. It is a tricky topic and I have never come up with a way to easily divide these two kinds of magicians into groups so that one sort could be encouraged and the other punished for their crimes. There just doesn't seem to be a way. I totally emphasize with those who vive for free will. If there was a way ... Oh! Oh may the gods protect us!" She stopped speaking and only stared, blank eyed, lost in another world. Everyone in the circle was watching her, slightly confused by her behavior.

Then she turned to Tor, and every one did the same. "Tor, how old are you?"

 _Nineteen._

"So young, yet so bright. This is what you are proposing isn't it? To regulate the use of magic by what a person's heart vibration is." There was an intake of breath from the group as one.

 _It can't be done!_ said Glaedr.

 _It can be done,_ replied Tor. _You said that the Eldunari couldn't cast spells using the ancient language. I taught Diskori to do just that. He can cast spells. If you're wondering where he is, he is living in Ellesméra expanding his abilities._

 _I was counting on Nasuada to see the point because this effects her realm greatly. I now turn to the elves who are here. Your society have been at peace for hundreds of years, and nearly every one of you can perform magic spells, some greater that others. Can you tell us how this lasting peace has been possible?_

Faracinth said, "What you say is true. We have been influenced by the magic of the Dragons far longer than the other races represented here, and so the effect of the magic is greater. We live forever, we have peace. Now I wonder what the cause has been? Magic or heart vibration rate? I am at a loss, and do not know how to proceed."

"Leave it to a renegade dragon like you to find such a delicious puzzle," said Angela in her usual perky manner. "Let's step into the real world, not just theory. Let's pick a vibration rate to be the lowest acceptable level. Saphira, give us a rate. It doesn't matter what you call it - a number, a symbol or just the feeling you get when the vibration is present."

Saphira answered, _I feel the rate. I have broadcast it to the other dragons here. Can you feel it?_ The other dragons nodded their heads. _Do you agree that this is the lowest rate one can give off and still be good?_

 _Yes, Saphira elda,_ said Frey.

 _Now I will broadcast this medium vibration out to the rest of you. See what you can make of it,_ said Saphira.

Everyone was silent. "Yes," said Arya, "I can feel the speed of this feeling. It is less than what most elves feel."

"OK. Back to my request," said Angela. "Name everyone's heart vibration who is sitting in this circle. No secrets here, just understanding."

 _Does everyone agree to this?_ asked Tor. _You are free to be left out of this reading, as an act of free will._ No one objected.

 _I will make the reading,_ said Thorn. _I am good at this. I won't tell you what Galbatorix's heart vibration was. There aren't numbers or symbols that go that low. But ... Nasuada is above the medium, the dragons and Eldunari are all vibrating above the medium, Murtagh and Eragon, yes._ Thorn's eyes were closed as his mind slipped from person to person reading their vibration level. _All the elves are above the medium, the werecats, yes, above, Angela above, The Urgals, very high. Did I get everyone?_

"I have a request," said Blödhgarm. "Give us King Däthedr's heart vibration."

Tor drew a circle in the air before him and Tialdarí Hall appeared. King Däthedr was sitting on his throne. Tor spun the window around slightly so that Thorn could see it better. _Can you read his vibration through this window? I've never tried it._

 _I think I can. Oh. He fails. His heart vibration is below the medium. Show me another window, one of Queen Nasuada's court. I know most of them._

Tor closed that window and opened one of the castle in Ilirea. _Which room?_ he asked.

 _The common room where food is served. It will be breakfast_ _time there about now._ Tor altered the window so that it showed a view of the common room, from up by the ceiling so that everyone could be seen. Nasuda came over to see the window better.

 _I can do better than that,_ said Tor, and he enlarged the scrying window and placed it behind him so that everyone could see.

Nasuada beamed. "I like your style, Tor. Let's see. There's Campton. He's a magician and one I'm having trouble with."

 _His vibration is below the medium,_ said Thorn.

"What about this one?

 _Above._

"And this one?"

 _Below. Let me identify everyone's heart vibration whether it's about or below the medium._ He did so. Nasuada was nodding in agreement.

Nasuada said, "Thorn's evaluation matches my opinion of these people in every case. Now what?"

Tor smiled. He was enjoying himself. _First of all, does everyone here agree that this medium heart vibration is a good way of determining whether or not a person is predisposed to do evil, or acts of greed, etc., that would undermine the peace of the group as a whole?_

Some sat in silence, others constantly looked around the room. In the end they all agreed. The heart vibration rate was a good indicator.

 _Then I will cast a spell that limits a person's use of magic, based on their heart vibration. If it is below the medium rate, then they will have zero magical abilities. If their rate is above the medium then their magic will not be hampered in any way._

"You can't just cast a spell of this magnitude," said Eragon. "It's not done that way! I am becoming alarmed. What effect will this have on us all? Do we even know? And how can you cast this spell, being as young as you are?"

 _Father. Calm yourself. The spell will not effect anyone in this circle. It will effect very few of the Elves. It will keep the Urgal Magicians from performing their duties during a raid upon the lands of others. Other war magicians will be hampered in the same way. Magical deceit of every flavor will cease to exist. I've thought this out and I cannot see any way this spell can harm. It will only do good. It will change one of the fundamental laws of our universe, though, for only those who are good will have magical power. What say you? Can I cast the spell?_

One by one they all nodded their approval. Eragon also nodded 'yes,' but looked worried too.

 _Then that is settled, the spell is cast._

Chapter 22

"What?" asked Garzhvog. "That quickly?"

 _Yes._

"What of the loopholes that you must be careful of?" asked Faracinth.

 _If you don't use any language but slip past them into the foundation level of magic, there are no loopholes._

"I want proof that this worked," said Angela. "First of all, all who can cast spells please check to see that this is still possible."

A moment was taken for this. Various flowers appeared out of thin air, and other assorted magic.

"Bring that common room of Nasuada's back up on your window, Tor," said Faracinth. "We can ask that Campton fellow to do some magic, then I want to scry King Däthedr to ask _him_ to do magic."

Campton was scried using one of Tor's windows, including an alteration to the spell that created two way communication. Nasuada asked him, "Campton, my good friend."

Campton jerked his head around and saw the window with Nasuada framed in it. He instantly became suspicious, then with an oily voice of a conjuror, he said, "My Lady. How can I be of assistance?"

"I have made a bet with some friends I am visiting with and they said you couldn't possibly make a gold coin appear out of thin air. I said that you could, that I've seen you do it many a time. The fact is that I bet a fairly heavy amount on your abilities. I'll be willing to split my profits with you if you succeed. What say you? Can you pull a gold coin out of the air?"

Campton looked pleased. "Mind you, my Lady, this is nothing more than a parlor trick to amuse my friends, but, as you wish. How much did you say you bet?"

"A lot."

Campton smiled in a greedy way, then muttered a few words and held out his hand. Noting happened. He looked confused, then tried again. Nothing. In fact he tried over and over with the same results.

At last, Nasuada, said, trying to sound disappointed. "I was sure you could do this, Campton. I'll never live this one down. Well, no doubt you've done your best." The window closed amid the laughter of the whole group. Even the Herndall woman who had remained fairly solemn up till then chortled deep in her throat.

Tor brought up Tialdarí Hall where King Däthedr still sat. There was a lull in the usual flow of people who come for his advise. When he saw the window in midair appear he had no doubt as to who was behind it. "Go away," was all he said, but his left eye began to twitch.

Nasuada stepped up to the window and said, "My dear Däthedr."

"Lady Nasuada," the king said with a slight nod of his head.

"Your line goes as far back as the crossing when the elves arrived in Alagaësia, does it not?"

"Yes, Lady Nasuada. My line can be traced back to the captain of one of those ships – a great man and an accomplished magician in a time when that gift was rare among my people." He visibly relaxed, seeing that this was no more than a visit of state.

"I have heard rumors of such a splendid iris that you are able to grow within a moment out of your open hand. I would love to see you perform this impressive bit of magic."

"For you, my Lady." He began to wonder when that demon of a small female dragon would appear in the window.

He muttered a word in the ancient language and looked at his hand, fully expecting the flower to appear. It did not. He tried again, and again, each time becoming more bewildered.

"That is a shame," said Faracinth quietly. "Some things of beauty must needs be lost – for the greater good." The window closed. This time there was no laughter.

Tor was pleased. _Let us examine the aspects_ _of this change that I've made in the way magic is experienced in these lands. King Däthedr has not lost any of his free will. It has only shifted slightly. He now has the free will to seek ways to raise his heart vibration and thus restore his magical abilities. Or, he can choose the lower vibration and remain powerless. What will he choose once he becomes acquainted with the characteristics of this new spell?_

 _He cannot change this spell. None of you can. The Word will have no power over it for the spell was cast at a level of magic that is beyond the Word's influence, beyond the Ancient Language's spell-binding powers. I am, in fact, the most powerful being in this land. It's a good thing that my heart vibration is high._

That revelation made most everyone feel uncomfortable.

 _Oh, but I'm not done examining the possibilities,_ continued Tor. _If one of you becomes sick, what do you do?_

 _Rest and get well,_ said Solumbum. _Some things are obvious._

Tor continued, _Rest and get well. That is true but only because we have set our world up to behave in this way. It is our beliefs that create our world, not any set of external laws. The way our world behaves is regulated by our thoughts empowered by emotions. In casting this spell I have broken one of the basic laws, that of free will. Yet I have done it, but how? Because the vibration of the land supported the lower heart vibrations. What I actually did when I cast my spell was to raise the minimal vibration of the land. It will now not tolerate anything lower than the minimum that we set._

 _Back to being sick. What if whether you caught a cold or not was determined by your heart vibration and not bugs floating around in the air, as the elves have demonstrated? What would we then do to get well? Go to a house of healing where your only goal is to raise your heart vibration. Once the rate went up, health would be restored._

"These are the kinds of questions that my master asked," said Angela. "But then, he was mad as a barn owl caught in mouse cage without a beak."

Tor continued, _How does this idea apply to riches? What if riches were attracted only to those with a higher heart vibration? The land suddenly refusing to give of her bounty to those who are not matching up to the land's new and higher vibration? The wealth would, over time, gravitate into the hands of the good and honest. If you were selling a product that was faulty or meant to harm people or_ _the land, then the business venture would fail, the land would not support it. Kings would fall out of power who did not measure up._

 _Saphira, the medium vibration that we chose for the lowest acceptable level was not so high that it will cause any great upheaval. Do you agree?_

 _I agree. You have not pushed this world too far, just a nudge. Some will fall out of power, for various reasons: magic stops working, riches dry up, political power wanes. But only one reason, the land is vibrating just a little faster than before. This is a good thing, your spell._

Nasuada said, "Roran, you've been quiet all this time. Your wealth has come to you because you sought peace and abundance for all, above personal gain. What say you?"

"You said it in a nutshell. My only goal was to rebuild my home to be so splendid as to outshine the old valley by a hundred times. The more I tried to do this for all, the more wealth came my way. I see some sad times for a few, as a result of Tor's spell. I don't know how this land of ours is going to make the changes, but change we will, or be swept aside.

"I am thinking of King Orin." Julie and Markus looked up. "We don't need to read his heart vibration to know that it doesn't go above the medium. To bad for him. His kids, though, they show promise. And I predict that in a short time, they will be leading the people of Surda, not their father - not King Orin. That is all I have to say."

"Let me get this straight," said Garzhvog. "You are saying that the spell you cast will make greed, like I see in the human lands, less likely or impossible?

 _Yes._

"And in my land, in the villages of the Urgralgra, the war lords will only be those who show mercy?"

 _Yes._

"I don't see how this will be possible. But I will watch and report to all of you here what I see."

Tor said, _Let us break for lunch. Dragons follow me to the lake for some nice fish, or just a swim if you're not hungry._

That effectively put an end to the council meeting, giving all a moment or two of solitude to digest the import of what had happened.

Eragon and Arya sat in their treeish house and rested, after food had been set out for the others. Everyone seemed to be seeking the quiet of their own thoughts at this time.

"Did you know what he was up to?" said Eragon.

"Yes. I've know for along time that he was different and would probably impose those differences upon us sooner or later."

Eragon was beside himself with frustration. "All that we created gone to the wind!"

"Call it the Winds of Change," said Arya, "Part of this new land. Let it be what it is. Tor, Carol and those who will follow them are finding their place in the world, that is all - unleashing such beautiful new magic. It is the legacy of our youth – to teach the elders."

This spell of Tor's was destined to have long reaching effects. Over the next few weeks, subtle changes in the way everyone used magic began to become obvious.

A ripple moved across the land which every magician felt - and some feared.

The Eldunari in Tronjheim felt it. The dwarves doted over these living stones so much that quite a few Eldunari chose to rest there and help temper the volatile nature of the clans. But it wasn't the Eldunari, it was the land itself that began to calm the temper of the dwarf clans.

The work of the Riders had come to a head in this spell. They were no longer needed. Murtagh's question remains a valid one: is this going to be good or evil? Since when is increased freedom and light called evil?

Section 3 On and On Chapter 23

"Hmm ... Hmmm ... Hm"

 _What are you doing?_ asked Carol.

 _Singing._ "Hmm ... Hm"

 _That's obvious!_

 _Then why did you ask?_

 _Oh you!What makes you who you are, I wonder?_

 _You do._

 _What? You can't mean that._

 _I do. It's your love that defines me, makes me feel so good all the time. Then I can't help spreading that love in every direction. Why, bits of your love are even in the stars above by now, you've given me so much of it._ "Hmmm ... Hmm ... Hm"

 _You're nice. Have I ever told you that?_

 _Once or twice._ "Hmm" _I'm singing this plant into a harness._

 _Oh._ She reached out and touched the plant. _It_ _feels like leather, soft, yet tough._

 _I made it up just now and told it to feel that way._ "Hmm ... Hm" _Tell you what, if you go and fetch your friend, Maude, by the time you two return I'll be finished and then you can see what I've made. Deal?_

 _OK. I know where she hangs out this time of day. I'm glad she decided to stay here after the conference last week._ Carol jumped into the air and took off towards the village.

"Hmm ... Hm"

Later, the three of them sat around the harness. Maude was in her near-human child form this morning. _This is what dragons wear who have a Rider bonded to them. That's you._ Tor pointed at Carol. She started to look uncomfortable, as if someone had just brought up an untoward subject at a dinner party.

 _May I place this on you?_ ask Tor. She nodded. Once the harness was in place, he pointed at Maude and she lifted off the ground, at which point, Maude quickly covered her eyes with her hands. Maude graciously settled into the harness, and Tor adjusted the straps so that Maude would stay in place while Carol was in flight.

 _Well? What do you think?_

 _Nice? s_ aid Carol with a look on her face as if she was saying _, 'What_ _the heck!'_

"Can I take my hands off my eyes yet?" asked Maude.

 _This morning looks like a great time for you to give Maude a flying lesson._

"I don't think this is a good idea," said Maude, her lower lip trembling.

Carol twisted her neck around so she could see Maude. She looked frightened. Carol grinned. _I'll make it a short flight. OK, Maude?_

"Not really."

Tor jumped off the ground and headed for the village. He could see Arya directing her magic to make a lovely, small house for Angela who had decided to stay at the village, for awhile. Tor knew that his father, Eragon would be sitting in the cave common room reading at this time of day. That is where Tor headed. He had something to discuss, alone.

Tor walked into the cave and settled down quietly next to the fire and waited – like a well-trained dog. _Justice is a funny thing,_ said Tor, still looking into the depths of the fire.

Eragon looked up and then put his scroll down.

Tor continued, _Justice actually becomes necessary only after some act is known by another which cannot be lightly ignored. One can ignore knowing that a friend went to someone's house to play games. Other kinds of knowledge creates the need for justice. Have you ever thought about this sort of thing?_

"Many, many times, my son. I'm resisting the urge to pat your head." Eragon grinned.

 _I could lick your hand,_ replied Tor with his own toothy grin. _What do you do about this thing called justice? How is it satisfied? I am at a lose._

"You met Sloan." It wasn't a question.

 _I stayed in a hut by the creek right next to his hut. He has the most unusual eyes. I've only seen one other person with those same eyes. I'd like to hear your side of the tale._

Eragon sighed. "I thought that someday, somehow, this incident would come to light. It's a simple story, actually. Sloan murdered a man named Byrd and betrayed Carvahall to the Ra'zac, which jeopardized all their lives. It backfired, though, and the Ra'zac kidnapped Sloan and his daughter, Katrina. They stayed prisoner in Helgrind for months before Roran, Saphira and I could come to their aid. We killed the Ra'zac and their parents who were gigantic flying creatures as large and fierce as Saphira. It was a near thing. I stayed behind when Saphira returned to the Varden with Roran and Katrina. I told Roran and Katrina that in a cell next to hers I had found Sloan, but he was dead. He was _not_ dead. I lied." Eragon had begun wringing his hands.

"After they left, I carried Sloan down the mountain and ran off into the wilderness with him on my back to get away from the soldiers who had surrounded Helgrind. Justice. I was caught by this trap good and proper. I knew what Sloan had done, that he deserved to die for his crimes, but I could not do it. I could not kill him myself. I feared that if I brought him back to the villagers, they would hang him. They would have a right to hang him. Katrina ... she would be tore apart. And my fear was that Roran's and Katrina's love would not survive if that happened. What was I to do?"

 _So, you sent him off to Ellesméra to live his life in exile. Not a bad choice._

"He was blind when I found him. The monsters had pecked his eyes out." Tor cringed at the thought. "After the Great War, we were all at Ellesméra. I had forgotten Sloan was even there, so much was happening. At an outdoor party, a specialty of the elves, I saw an elf off to one side, lurking in the shadows. That was so unlike an elf that I went to investigate. ... I found Sloan in a fit of tears, beside himself with grief. He could hear Katrina, her the child, and Roran too, but the spell I had placed on him forced him to stay away. He couldn't even see them for he was still blind. I pitied him. I healed his eyes and he looked upon his daughter and grandchild with rapture. He even thanked me; I would have only gotten curses if it was the old Sloan speaking. He had made a change.

 _And you plan on leaving him there the rest of his life?_

"What else can I do?"

 _Release him._

"I can't. I'm afraid that Roran and Katrina will hate me."

 _That is not a good reason to leave a man in prison._

"I know it isn't. Funny that you should mention Sloan just now. Only three days ago Sloan came to me in my dreams and would not go away. He would just look at me with his healed eyes and accuse me of cowardice. Will you go and talk to him? I cannot go, or will not."

 _I will go. Justice is forcing me to do this. Now that I know, I am in the same dilemma that you were in so many years ago. I want to do the right thing and I do not know what that is._

Maude's flying lesson went abominably poor. She shrieked and even swooned, slumped over the harness motionless. Carol landed in a meadow and cast a spell which removed Maude and the harness and laid the unconscious werecat on the grass.

 _Poor thing,_ thought Carol. _She never made much of a Rider._

Maude came to eventually and looked up, then trembled, thinking that she was still in the sky, seeing the clouds filling her vision and all. Then she saw the grass beside her and relaxed, grasping the grass with her hands as if she needed to anchor herself onto the earth.

Carol looked lovingly into Maude's face. _You make a lousy_ _Rider, Maude. You really do. I release you from the spell that binds us together, but not from our friendship. That is a kind of magic that cannot be broken._ Carol tapped the ground with her talon and the earth shuddered.

Maude shook herself and got up. "What a relief!" said Maude. "Humans are a bore. I spent way too much time in Ilirea. I'm off to Ellesméra. Can you send me with one of those window thingies? Come to visit me there, often. Please?"

Carol reached over and pressed her nose against Maude's forehead. _Often,_ she said. Carol drew a window in the air and Ellesméra appeared. Maude walked through, then turned and waved back before walking around the bend in a path.

When Carol returned to the village, she found that Tor was gone. _That isn't like him to leave without saying where._ She decided to wait and watch the villagers making a fuss over a wild bore they had caught. Arya looked disgusted.

Chapter 24

Tor found Sloan where he always sat, turning pieces of wood into chips. _You look as if you would like to eat a nice steak,_ said Tor from his mind to Sloan's mind.

Sloan looked up. "Who are you?"

 _A friend._ Tor spoke in human which helped Sloan to trust him. The promise of a real meal for once was also tempting.

"I can trust you. I know that. No harm ever comes to me in this place. You also won't find meat in this place, so where are you going to get it from? And how?"

 _Oh, here and there._

Sloan looked away, looking for another stick. "I used to be a butcher. Now look at me. Wood is the only thing I cut on.

 _What kind of meat would you like?_

Sloan looked pleased as if relishing some long forgotten pleasure. "Ham, well roasted, tender and juicy."

Tor thought, _That sounds like something King Orin would have in his kitchen._

He was right. A window was opened into Orin's Borromeo Castle and he popped through. _I'll be right back,_ said Tor before the window disappeared.

A short exploration lead him to the kitchen. He _did_ get some odd looks, but most people thought twice about approaching a dragon, even a small one, unless they were commanded to.

In the kitchen he found the cook just then taking a breakfast ham out of the oven. _Would you cut me a goodly piece of that ham? That's enough. Set it right there on this plate. And a couple of rolls and some of those eggs. Now look in your pocket, not now! You oaf. When I'm_ _gone._

Tor drew a window in the air which showed Sloan sitting right where he had left him ... waiting. The plate was passed through the window with magic, then Tor jumped through as the window shut with a snap.

The cook put his hand in his pocket and found a couple of gold coins there. _Good dragon,_ thought the cook.

Sloan ate the meal as if he had never tasted anything so good. "You are a man of your word, a dragon of your word, I mean," Sloan corrected himself. "Now what? You must want something."

Tor replied, _Justice. That's what I want. I know who you are and that makes me a judge. I don't like it. But not liking a thing never makes it go away. Let's talk. I've heard Eragon's version of your story. Now I want to hear yours._

Sloan sat and thought for a moment. "No one has ever asked me for my version. Why didn't Eragon come here himself. Is he afraid? The spineless cur."

 _Yes. Afraid. Does that surprise you? He's afraid of what will happen to Katrina, Roran, himself, if you suddenly show up not dead. I personally think it's time to return to reality. Face the drummer, so to speak. Byrd had a wife and kids, you know. They returned to the village with the others at the end of the Great War. Can you face them?_

"No. None of my personal reasons for doing what I did, can bring back those years of separation. I understand this all too well. My love for Katrina, more like an obsession for her success, had over shadowed all reason. See? I've had years to think this over. I see where I errored. But it is too late, it seems, to make things right."

 _I can see what your opinion of Eragon must be, but I think you are confusing the poor farm boy with who he has become._

"You don't have to go into that. I got the picture the last two times we met. He's the most powerful man in this land and all that. He will never be anything more than a worthless poor farm boy to me who cannot even keep food on the table, let alone live in a proper house. Roran is no better."

 _You want to see Roran's_ _house? He lives in Palancar Valley on hill overlooking the whole valley._ Tor drew a circle in the air and a view of Roran's castle came to view.

Sloan was speechless, then he blurted out, "You lie! He can't be living there."

 _Why would I lie? Observe._ The scrying window moved forward until one of the upper windows was framed by it. Looking in, they saw Roran and Katrina sitting at an elegant table with their three children, eating breakfast. The trappings were rich. The serving lady smartly dressed. Sloan was torn between his hate for Roran, which had not suffered any lose over the years, and his desire to see his daughter and grand-kids.

Tor kept the window open, liking the effect it was having on Sloan. _The only thing keeping you from walking through this window is your heart. It's up to you. How much do you really love your daughter and grand-children? And how brave are you, Sloan? If you return you will have to face Byrd's wife and children? Are you man enough to do that with a chin uplifted, even if they hang you for your crimes?_

"I don't know. I really don't know."

 _Then this is where we part company._ Tor got to his feet, then paused a moment to see what Sloan would do next. _Do you see the difficulty of Eragon's decision to send you to Ellesméra years ago? If you can't decide, then how can you expect him to be able to?_

 _Be a man, Sloan. Let you heart grow just a little today and your future will be better for it - even if they hang you. I seriously doubt it will come to that. It's just my opinion. I could be wrong._

"Not hang me?"

 _Oh ho! Have we found the greatest struggle you are facing? It isn't losing your family, its losing your breath with a rope tightening around you neck, tighter and tighter until your spine snaps ..._

"Stop it!" Sloan had put his hand around his throat as if to keep a noose from killing him.

Tor took another approach. He stepped through the window into Roran's dinning room and closed the window behind him.

"Tor!" Exclaimed Roran. He got up and stepped forward as if to shake Tor's hand then put his hand down, not knowing the proper way to greet a dragon. "Why are you here? Is there trouble? You look thoughtful," asked Roran.

 _I'd like to borrow your three lids_ _for a while. They'll_ _be safe. Their names are Ismira,_ _Elizabeth, and Billy, if I_ _recall._ Tor walked up to Ismira and said, _I'm just a year younger than you. You can trust me. I'm a friend and a rider._ He raised his paw so that they could all see the silver mark there.

"A rider that is also a dragon?" asked Ismira. The other kids suddenly looked interested.

"We be fine," claimed Billy, only four. "He's nice."

They all smiled at this and soon a window was opened into a room in the cave at Landeous Nebus. The three kids and Tor stepped through and the window shut, only to reopen by the creek. Sloan was waiting, he did not know what for. Tor motioned for him to enter and Sloan stepped through into the room. Seeing the children, he stopped with a sudden emotional upheaval. There in this very room were the yearnings of his heart - the children of his beloved daughter, Katrina. Though he did not recognize them, he knew who they were in his heart.

Sloan drew a deep breath and approached the children with caution. "I am your grandfather. I am Sloan. I know you thought I was dead, but I am not. Tor here found me wandering in the wilderness, out of my mind." He looked over at Tor to see what he thought of his improvised solution to clearing Eragon of convicting him and putting him in exile.

Tor shot a thought back just to Sloan, just a private thought. _That's not bad. Are you willing to claim years of memory lose? You could still have lived in Ellesméra. Very plausible._

Sloan smiled, but then his face fell. He said to the kids, "No, that's not the true story. The truth is always better. And even death is better than living in guilt."

 _Are you ready to face the drummer?_

"Yes."

 _Will you try to get along with Roran?_

"Don't ask that of me."

 _Then the deal's off. I'll just send the kids back home and leave you here in the care of the elves._

Sloan looked alarmed, then his brow wrinkled as if facing a dilemma and not knowing what to do about it. He swallowed. Then he spoke, as if the words were the most difficult in the world to say, "I will try."

 _That's all I_ _can ask of you._

"Then will you release me from this spell?" Sloan almost pleaded.

 _Only Eragon can release the spell._ That wasn't, strictly speaking, correct, for Tor could have broken the spell, but he was going to let Eragon do it, as was his right.

"Then bring him here and let's get going with this before I back out," prodded Sloan.

 _Eragon,_ called Tor. He was in the other room and came at once. When he walked into the room and saw who was there, Eragon's mouth fell open. He didn't some how expect this. He should have know better.

 _Eragon,_ Tor began.

But Sloan took over, "I am ready. If you will release me from your spell I will return to the village and face them knowing that they have every right to hang me, even after all these years."

"Are you sure?" asked Eragon. "And what about Roran? What do you feel about his marrying your daughter? ... after all these years?"

"With a castle and all those servants, how can I complain?" He smiled. "As I told this young dragon here, I will _try_ to get along with him."

Tor added, _That's the best we're going to get out of him for now, Eragon. Take it or leave it._

"I'll take it."

"Now can we get on with this?"

Eragon said The Word which no one quite heard, then a few other words in the ancient language, and the spell that had stopping Sloan from returning to his daughter was lifted. Eragon looked at Tor and asked, "Did I miss anything?"

 _The spell is completely gone. I've looked at his heart. It is the right vibration. It wasn't when we first met today. He will live a good life._ Tor drew a circle in the air and Roran's dining room reappeared. The children and Eragon walked through with Sloan leading the way. Tor heard a scream and some laughter before he shut the window. _It's their time to be alone,_ he thought.

Tor walked out of the room in search of Carol, who was curled up by the fire. She looked up as he entered and winked. Arya was sitting in a chair next to Angela, who was knitting what looked like a mushroom-shaped bladder. Solumbum licked his right paw while sitting on the fireplace mantle.

Arya smiled as Tor joined them. "That was a piece of art - more potent than the grandest magical spell ever was. How did you do it?"

Angela perked up.

 _I tried scaring him with hanging. That wasn't doing it. Then I brought his grand-kids to see him. Love is stronger than fear. He'll be fine now. The villagers will forgive him, for his heart is now above the medium level. His success is guaranteed._

"Aren't you gong to ask what this is for that I'm making?" Angela asked Tor.

 _I've never gotten a straight answer from you so why should I ask for one now? OK, why are you knitting such an odd thingy?_

"To get you to ask questions."

 _Bah!_

Chapter 25

 _I'm bored,_ said Carol

 _Now Carol,_ Tor replied, _you know that a dragon in your condition should get plenty of rest._

She blew a little smoke out of her nostrils in protest. Two Urgralgra children were building a castle of dirt with a knurlan child. The adults were sitting at a table nearby. This was the clearing in the center of the village, now a coveted place for family vacations.

 _We could look at the dragons to pass the time,_ suggested Carol.

 _They're only_ _flying north. And we looked yesterday. OK. For you._ Tor drew a circle in the air and before them were arrayed many dragons all flying in the same direction. They were flying over the top of this world to settle a new land.

 _What a sight!_ exclaimed Tor. _A whole thunder of dragons all flying in pattern._

 _Why are they called a thunder of dragons?_

 _Angela said they were._

 _And you believed her?_

 _She wouldn't lie._

Carol blew another puff of smoke out of her nostrils. Tor closed the scrying window.

 _Why are the dragons_ _leaving Landeous Nebus?_ asked Carol. It must have been the hundredth time she had asked.

 _They're not all leaving, just most of them,_ giving his normal reply.

Just then two dragons had appeared flying over the tree tops; they were Saphira and Firnen, with their riders on their backs. They landed. Eragon and Arya dismounted and walked over to Tor and Carol. Saphira and Firnen followed.

 _So, this is it,_ said Tor. _Going_ _to live among the älfakyn._

Eragon placed a hand on Tor's head. "We'll miss you. Come often."

 _We'll let you know when the eggs are hatched._

Eragon grinned. "Grand-dragon-children."

 _What else._

Arya knelt on the ground and gave Tor and Carol one last hug, then stood and mounted Firnen. "Can't keep Queen Faracinth waiting. She's prepared a feast." Eragon mounted Saphira.

Saphira and Firnen came up next and bumped noses with Tor and Carol. _Be good_ , Saphira said. The dragons jumped into the air and were off. High above the village, Tor and Carol could see a flash of light and they were gone.

 _I like our way better,_ said Carol.

 _Less_ _work,_ replied Tor.

 _I'm bored._


End file.
